Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better
by xxsparklesnick
Summary: All through grade school, that boy with the soft bronze hair had been haunting her. He was her most bitter rival, her worst enemy. When she finally thought he was out of her life, he comes back - will he turn her life upside down again? Edward/Bella.
1. Wrong Again, Swan

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Twilight, it belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

A/N: Don't hold it against me that I just couldn't get myself not to write this. :P It was absolutely a necessity, because it's been bugging me and won't let me write anything else. I tried so hard to play around with it and write it in first person - it, A, didn't flow, and B, made my writer's block even worse. So this is the product, something I'm not so proud of, but at the same time, have a lot of ideas I can't hold back for. I guess that's just how these things go, huh?

Anyway, read and tell me what you think, please? :) This is something I wrote in between finishing up another fanfic (You Got Love!, go read it, that's my subtle advertising for today xD), and whether I'm going to continue it or not I dunno. You never know with me. I might even get another chapter out tomorrow even though I say I won't, because I'm just like that.

The point is, read and review and tell me what you think. Thanks in advance, and try to enjoy my scattered story, brought to you by the pain in the ass writers like to call "The Block".

By the way - if you can guess where the title comes from, you get a cookie. ;)

* * *

_In her entire life, there had never been anything she was the best at. She had tried just about anything, almost everything, to try and do something just a tiny bit better than him. When she was five and he had moved into the house down the street, the extremely large, white, and beautiful house she had always dreamed of living in, she was understandably a little bit jealous. After all, she'd pass it with her mother when they took walks down the streets – this was, of course, when her mother was in exercise, weight-obsessed phase – and she'd had her fair shares of fantasies about that house. Her own house wasn't exactly small, but it was modest, homey. The outside of that old white house was nothing short of breathtaking, the kind of houses where little girls dreamed of moving into when they finally got married and were old enough to move out._

_Though, when her mother had informed her that there was a little boy in the family that had moved in said house, just about her age, she had been delighted. Even though he had taken her dream house, she decided not to hold it against him, considering it was hardly his fault. After all, she could find a new house to have her fantasies in, and the house next door was just as good-looking. _

_This was, of course, before she had actually met the green-eyed beauty that was Edward Masen._

_It was the first day of kindergarten. She was excited, elated, to finally be out of the house with her obsessive mother and her overly happy soon-to-be stepfather Phil. Finally she got to go to school and meet other kids, and maybe that little boy who she had been too scared to approach. She had seen the back of his head, the silky looking reddish brown locks, but that was just about it. Instead of fantasies about the house she had begun having strange dreams of reaching out and touching the hair, just to see if it was as soft as it looked. It was all so silly, and when she told her mother, she had squealed that she had found her first crush and something about puppy love. Needless to say, there had not been any further discussion about the boy with the soft-looking hair. _

_She was just a bit flustered. When she actually tried to talk to anyone, nothing seemed to want to come out of her mouth. She'd smile and her mouth would open as if to actually talk to the person in front of her, and then like a mental block, she'd freeze and there would be no words. She didn't understand why it was so hard for her to speak – was there something wrong with her? This suspicion only increased when she had looked over and seen that soft-haired boy, talking easily to someone. His voice was like singing, and she just didn't understand how he could talk so smoothly, without stuttering or tripping over words or blushing. She didn't understand why her knotted brown locks fell into her face and managed to look messy and un-tamed, while his auburn locks did the same thing and managed to look good. His hair was messy and with every move it got messier, so then why did it still look so soft, so perfect? Why were his eyes such an innocent, deep shade of emerald and why did they manage to hold confidence when she lacked so much of it? _

_They'd gone out to play kickball, and by now, she was beyond irritated. She hadn't actually managed to speak a word yet, but her eyes had been completely focused on the boy across the room, who had _

_already seemed to be surrounded by newly-made friends. She didn't like him – that might just be the understatement of the century. She absolutely loathed him._

_Then it happened. She was up to kick the ball, and she was desperate at this point. She had never been good at sports, at least not when she played with her father back in rainy Forks, but she was willing to try. After all, she had a lot of built up embarrassment and aggravation to get out. So, her foot extended, and she was pretty sure she had kicked the ball – until, so abruptly that she hadn't even realized it, she was on the ground, the ball going about an inch and bouncing. _

_Laughter. There was laughter all around her, but only one chuckle was really hared from her – a muffled, beautiful noise from that bronze-haired boy she loathed oh so much. She rolled her eyes, turning away from him and crossing her arms, heat rushing to her cheeks._

_From that moment on, Edward Masen had become her rival. She had done absolutely everything to beat him at anything she could. He was better at sports, making friends, his house was bigger, he was most definitely better-looking, and he was the smartest boy she had ever met. He made that clear rather soon, after he was in the same class as her all through grade school. Over and over he beat her at everything – spelling bees, school science fairs, dating, amount of friends, looks, money, you name it and he had beat her at it._

_She had come to terms that she was never going to beat Edward Masen at anything by the summer of ninth grade, and she absolutely loathed it – she absolutely loathed him. _

_Then when her mother told her she was moving to the rainy town of Forks to live with her father, well, there was only one good thing about the situation._

_She would never have to see Edward Masen as long as she lived. She'd never have to see that stupid crooked smile on his face and that annoying wink he always gave her when he beat her again, shredding whatever pride she had back to little itsy bits. That was just about the only upside, of course, but a rather big one nonetheless._

* * *

"Dad!"

She screamed the word as she made her way out of the kitchen, half-bitten apple still in hand. Her father's footsteps made a loud stomping noise as he made his way down the stairs. She grabbed her bag, slung it over a shoulder, and turned to meet his gaze as he looked her over, a little grin on his lips.

"I'm heading off to school," she announced unnecessarily, giving him a rather awkward one-armed hug which he returned just as awkwardly. Nonetheless, it meant something between the two, and instead of him giving her the gushy last-year-of-high-school speech her mother would have given her, he only managed a 'see ya after school' as she headed out the door for her long-awaited senior year.

Senior year. It was rather hard to process how this was finally her last year of high school, and after this came college. This was really her last first year of school, something she really hadn't processed yet. It all seemed to be going so fast, and she smiled as she stepped into her truck, remembering that very first day of kindergarten, and blocking out some not-so fond memories.

Biology class. The tables were the same color, size, shape, and the teacher was sure to be as dreadfully boring as he was the year before, teaching the same subject that was still just as simple. She would still take notes and answer every question, because she had become known as the 'class pet', the smartest in the class. It suited her, she supposed, and she might just still be getting used to being unrivaled.

It was hard to remember why she had been so excited about this day this morning, and why she had thought it would be any different than it was the year before. Excitedly, the girl in front of her, Jessica Stanley, was filling her in on some gossip around the school, gossip that she had absolutely no interest in. It wasn't that she didn't like Jessica, in fact the two had formed a rather tentative friendship, but the girl just didn't know when to be quiet. It was, to her, extremely obvious that she wasn't listening at all, but obviously not to the black-haired girl who was still talking a mile a minute.

"Hey," came the voice of another, the friendly Mike Newton, "did you hear about the new kid?"

Jessica must have been talking about said new kid, because she was fast to explain she had just been telling her that, giggling. Once she began going on about how hot the new kid was she was zoning out again, her eyes seeing the front of the room, but at the same time, not really seeing.

She wasn't sure when her eyes had fallen back to the desk below her or when she had started randomly doodling in the corners of her notebook, but the sound of her teacher brought her back. She still didn't raise her head up, deciding to skip the usual beginning of the year greeting before the actual lesson 

began. It was those words, however, that name that snapped her head up, made her eyes as wide as saucers, and her heart beating twice as fast.

"Class, I'd like you to welcome Edward Masen. He'll be in this class from now on."

And the only thing going through her mind at that moment was, _oh, shit, _followed shortly by, _he looks like an angel._ He had the same reddish-brown hair, the same angel face, but matured, sculpted, perfect. Full lips, a flawlessly angled nose, a squared off, sculpted jaw , and the same endless eyes that reminded her so much of looking into a polished emerald.

Of course, when she realized that the only empty seat was beside her, her thoughts returned to, _oh shit._

Isabella Swan had been absolutely certain she would never see Edward Masen ever, ever again. But then again, that summer years ago, he had said something like, one day, they'd probably meet again - and she'd taken it as a challenge. If there was anything she had been sure of it was the fact that she'd never have to see that stupid smile, that soft hair, that perfect face, those beautiful eyes ...

Her next thought was, _god damnit, he was right again. _

She just couldn't win.


	2. C'est Super, Non?

Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing. Though, I guess I own some things, like this plot. Yes, this plot is mine, as well as my bad sense of humor and, uhm, my basic knowledge of French. But, you know, if I get that wrong during any part of the story, go ahead and correct me. :P

A/N: Bonjour! Finally, I've found a way to get some French in my stories. And that note up there won't make sense until you read the chapter, so oh well. xD Yes! There's French in the title and there's French in the chapter - no, not a lot. You all should be able to translate it by yourselves, I made sure of it, because, why, my friends? Because I am super author.

Alrighty, so let's get down to business, shall we? THANK YOU SO MUCH for you reviews. :P It's so awesome to see all those YGL! fans here, it's so awesome. My little online family, right? I think, three people said they like this writing style and this plot better than YGL!, so I'm hoping that this story can eventually be as amazing as that one has been for me. Anyways, thank you all for your support and your suggestions, and keep 'em coming! If you know me you know I don't mind questions/suggestions/criticism, so go for it. Oh, and if you don't know me, hey there I'm Nicky - uhm, if I ramble, don't worry. It's normal for me, my A/N's tend to be longer than I intend for them to be...

According to my fans (that is so fun to say), it "enhances my story". Go figure. :P Oh, and those who guessed the title is from Annie, yeah, you're right, pat yourself on the back! And, questions I got were when I was updating YGL!, and if I'm going to use different characters like I did in my other story...

Respectively, I dunno, soon I hope, and yes, yes, yes, I most definitely will. Guys, YGL! is being extremely difficult with me, and that's all I'm going to say about that for now. It's like a spoiled child. I needed a quick break, so this is what you get - now about this chapter, I don't particularly like it, but I think I have a better idea where this story is going now. :)

AYCDICDB. YGL!. (And, yeah, the ! is necessary. xD)

Why do my stories have the weirdest acronyms...?

Anyway, read on, my friends. :)

* * *

It had been getting harder to try and keep her calm with every single step that he took towards her, obviously heading for the glaringly obvious empty seat beside her. Suddenly she cursed that she had managed to get Mike to sit next to Jessica and talk, as per Jessica's request. Mike was a nice guy of course, this much be her sick form of punishment from whatever god that was out there, not like she was an overly religious person. Perhaps that was it – this seemed like some kind of sick, twisted form of torture to make up for all of her sins. She guessed she was finally making up for the time she accidently stole a candy bar from the general store down the street.

After what seemed forever of her breathing, anxious and tense, he took a seat in the chair beside her, a soft smile on his full lips. She noted for just a moment that he had really grown into his face, despite her attempt not to see anything good about the boy next to her, the one she had loathed for all those years – yet, it was extremely hard not to admire the gorgeous boy next to her. While one he had been baby-faced and the word _adorable_ had often been thrown around, that just wasn't possible anymore. His face could very well be carved in stone, his sharp jaw defined and masculine, his high cheekbones set in perfection. His eyes were still the same as always, so she skipped over them in her one-over, simply because she had always had to avoid them, afraid she'd end up drowning in their depth.

She continued on his face, his nose perfectly placed and angled just right, once again as if a famous sculptor had spent hours trying to get it just right. The full lips, the squared off chin, and once again she was back to the way he smiled, because she had missed it, seeing no reason to go back to it. He had always had that arrogant, self-assured smile, but there was just something a little bit different this time, something she just didn't immediately pick up on.

"See something you like, perhaps?"

His calm voice sent chills up her spine, her eyes wide as she realized that the beautiful whisper had escaped from the same full lips she had just been admiring, now set into a deep smirk she was just so familiar with. It took her a moment to process how long she had been staring at him, noting the all too obvious differences, wondering if she had been wrong and this wasn't the beautiful boy she had known years ago – though how someone had the same exact name, she wasn't even sure.

"N-no," she whispered back quickly, finally realizing that the class had already begun and that she was much better off looking at the front of the class than the boy next to her, still caught on how his voice had sounded when he had spoken – like smooth velvet. In the back of her mind, she remembered wishing he could speak again, just so she could listen once more.

The teacher must have asked a question. She missed it. She was lost in her comparisons, her wonderings and the inward debate in her head. She was trying to think of a logical reason why she should hold a grudge against the boy next to her who obviously didn't remember who she was – if he didn't 

remember, did it honestly matter? Maybe his annoying tendencies were out of the way now. Maybe, just maybe, he had changed, just like the differences in his face, and most importantly, his smile.

"Miss Swan?" the teacher pressed impatiently, and she bit down on her lip hard, her fists clenched under the desk. Her attention had never been more scattered – Jessica gave her a bewildered stare. There was usually nothing that stumped her in this class. After years of being second best, she had begun taking pride at being the top of this class.

"I-I…I, don't know the answer," she murmured. Even after he had repeated it she couldn't compete what it meant, her racing mind throwing out the scientific question for much more important musings, like if Edward's hair was as soft as it looked. She had never managed to actually touch the reddish-brown locks, after all.

Then she heard the velvet voice again, the one she had been wishing so desperately to hear again, the sound that was much more like singing than anything else, something she had never heard before – at first she smiled. She was completely content just listening to his voice, calm and collected; perfectly cool, perfectly smooth and pleasantly quiet that, at first, she didn't wrap her head around what he was saying, or even why he was speaking. She was just wondering if she'd notice if she turned her head, just to see how those full lips moved when he spoke.

"Very good, Mr. Masen."

That's when the sinking feeling came – he had answered _her _question. Just like always, he had beat her at something that she had formerly thought she was best at. She saw Mike's wide eyes, and slowly, very slowly, the anger slipped in. Of course he was the same exact person he was years ago, except now he was the only one who remembered their dysfunctional relationship from years ago – which, in her mind, made it worse. But how could he not remember, when he was still so annoyingly perfect? And how could she not see how he was, although good-looking in a different way, _the same?_

That's when she heard it. The same smooth voice, the beautiful musical song that now made her clench her teeth. It took a moment to comprehend what he was saying first, because she was much too caught up in her own thoughts, trying to make sense of this conversation, battling with herself inside.

"Hey, no hard feelings, _Isabella._ We're all shooting stars, remember?" he whispered, and she suddenly realized how close he was, his chair leaned towards her. "Some of happen to shine just a little bit brighter. It's not your fault, really."

That's when she saw it again – that stupid crooked grin of his that he always gave right after he spoke something like that, and this time, her heart lurched in her chest, because she remembered those words perfectly. She remembered her first and only Italian class, an after-school club that opted to teach Italian, which wasn't offered at the time to be taught as an elective class. She had decided to go for it, always finding Italian to be a beautiful language – and, after all, the food was delicious.

He was there. At first seeing that boy in the classroom was a shock, but once she processed it, she knew that she should have expected it. After all, he was everywhere. He was always doing everything just a little bit better than her, so of course she expected him to be amazing and a natural at the romance language while everyone else in the class stuttered and tried to speak with an accent, while getting over their squeaky new ninth grade voices.

She remembered exactly what her teacher had said after she had grinded her teeth together, her hands clenched tightly into fists on the top of the desk – he had just spoken, his voice not so deep at the time, in a perfect Italian accent. Did he do these things just to annoy her, to try to be better at her?

"_Not to worry, Isabella. We all are stars – some of just shoot a bit higher, shine a bit brighter. You'll find your niche."_

She had not found her niche. She had her high points, but just when she thought she'd found it, there he was, doing it just a bit better, just a bit faster, just a bit clearer, just a bit stronger, just a bit longer, just a bit louder, just a bit sweeter, just a bit shorter. He was her bitter rival, her worst enemy, and of course she should have expected to hear those words come from his full lips now, his deep voice making her voice, accented in a mimicked, but at the same time, perfect Italian that just confirmed this. Why was she starting to think any different?

"You remember," she managed to whisper, her voice nearly a low hiss as she turned to him, her eyes narrowed, angrier than she thought she would have been – why was she bothered by this so much?

He opened his mouth to speak again, but the loud bell interrupted him. The class was over? Where had the time gone? She remembered it starting, remembered the teacher's babbling in the background of her head, going a mile a minute, shooting off a hundred different theories and variations of memories she had of him, and suddenly, it was over. How long had she been sitting there, fuming and damning the undeniably beautiful boy next to her to hell? After all, he hadn't changed a bit. He couldn't even give her a small advantage and have an outbreak of acne, oh no – though, on his perfect, angel-like face, she doubted a few pimples would do much damage. Someone might just ask him to model for an acne cream commercial, and give him free products. Just one thing he would be better at, then, though she wondered if she would mind so much.

Edward grinned wide, crooked and breathtaking, and then he took her hand. He tried to figure out why he was taking her hand, why his warm, sweet breath was suddenly so close to her face, why his hand had hers in a firm grip. Then she realized he was bringing it to those full lips, her eyes wide, her legs like jelly, instantly becoming panicky – he had never done this before. Back in grade school, she had never had to deal with these feelings, and the way his lips felt as they touched the skin of her hand …

"It's a pleasure meeting you again, _Isabella_," he spoke her name in the same Italian accent, the one he mocked, but still managed to get out like a native from the country. She realized than just how hot her cheeks were, and the obvious fact that even after a few lingering moments, he had not dropped her hand. Finally, when they were the last ones in the classroom, he dropped her limp hand, giving her that same arrogant smile. "See you next period."

Next period. Next period? What was next period? She couldn't think, frozen in spot. She couldn't move. Was she melting, on the verge of bursting into flames, and was that really her heart, pounding in her chest? Was it possible to feel the way she was feeling – inevitable infatuation and extreme hatred at the same time, was that even normal?

"Yo, Bells!"

It took no more than a second to recognize the deep voice behind her, and instantly a grin spread over her features, despite her current mood. Before she could process it she was being lifted into the air and set, her legs wrapped around someone's waist, hoisted up on someone's shoulders. "Emmett," she giggled, rolling her eyes, "put me down before I pull your hair."

"Ooh, scary," her friend chuckled, putting her down like she said anyway, "not my _hair_, Bella. Rosie finally showed me how to use the curler right." There was another, high soprano giggle, like a thousand bells ringing in harmony, and she turned her head, smiling and hugging her other friend. Finally, some sense in this world, her two best friends.

"Hey, Alice," she greeted her other best friend, hugging the pixie-like, black-haired girl tightly. Her friend was giving her an odd look, and she felt her eyebrow rising in question, but Emmett laughed, breaking her questioning stare.

"Alice's wondering the same thing as me. What was _that?" _he questioned, his voice incredulous, and she finally realized that they had been standing there the whole time, and that they were still in the classroom in question – her cheeks heated up all over again, causing Alice to grin as she began walking, 

her gait much more like dancing, out of the classroom, Emmett following shortly after, she moving almost zombie-like behind him.

"What was what?" she stuttered quietly, trying to find a possible way to change the subject. It was more than obvious, she was guessing, that there was something more there. Did strangers kiss people's hands? Perhaps strange, foreign strangers from different countries, but Edward wasn't a foreign exchange student – unless they didn't know that? Maybe if she played her cards right…

"The eye sex, Bella," Alice mumbled, rolling her eyes as if it was obvious, "the kissing of the hand and the way he made love to you with his eyes. Jeez, we thought he wasn't interested in girls, the way he kept turning them down when they came up to him on the way here…" Obviously she did not know Edward.

"Wait, _what_?" I managed to get, ignoring her obvious teasing, deciding to jump on her for that later. "What did you say about… coming up to him on the way here? You mean you know Edward?"

Alice laughed, nodding her head simply, and Emmett nodded his head too, a huge grin on his face. It was he who answered, shrugging his large shoulders as he began to walk backwards, twirling the football he had been holding between his arms on a finger – she rolled her eyes at the swooning girls visible behind him. "Yeah, he's our new step bro. Mom and Dad wanted another, but you know about Mom…"

I nodded my head simply, not wanting to get into the sad story about why Emmett and Alice's mother, Alice's adoptive mother in truth, Esme couldn't conceive a child after Emmett. It really wasn't a happy story, and it was a shame, because the gentle woman really was an inborn mother. It was a shame she had to adopt such a person like Edward – she glared at the thought of him mixing in with her favorite family, suddenly realizing what this meant – every time she was there, he would be there, too. Her eyes widened in horror.

"No. No. No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! Oh, no!"

She completely ignored the odd looks she got from both her friends. She had been dreaming. God, this had to be some sick joke. How many sins had she made? She must be a terrible person to deserve this cruel and unjust punishment, after all.

* * *

French class. And there were a bunch of similar thoughts going through her mind like in Biology, like, when the hell did he change so much, but still remain so much the same? And how did he manage to have a perfect French accent, and when the hell had he decided to take French? Italian, French, what else did he know? Did he speak Spanish, too? Was he just created absolutely perfect, good at absolutely everything he did, or was it just her who was extremely plain and good at absolutely nothing?

She despised her teacher at this moment, not like she ever liked her French teacher. She had instructed the students to have full conversations with each other in French, and that's when she realized that the world was just against her today. Of course she ended up paired with him again, because of course that just made perfect sense. In the past the world had always found reason to put the two together all the time as well, so it wasn't so much of a surprise. She should have known, and she should have expected it, the way his velvet voice sounded as they spoke the French words, making them just so much smoother and clear, perfect, as opposed to her flawed, stuttered words.

They had been going at it for a few minutes back and forth, and she was quite proud that she hadn't been lacking a response once. The mischievous glint in his eyes told her he was taking this just the way that she was, a contest. It was through her anger that she finally realized he was leaning closer, so close that she could once again smell his sweet breath, feel it against her face; it was then he realized he was unnecessarily leaning to whisper into her ear, and she was about to pull away, but then the words came out, "_voulez-vouz couchez avec moi ce soir?"_

Of course she knew what that meant – she had been studying French for two years, enough to know the basics, and enough to know exactly what that sentence meant and what it was asking. It wouldn't matter if she didn't understand, anyway, because the seductive, smooth tone of his voice paired with how impossibly close he was to her was enough implication that it wasn't asking her what her favorite color was, or something equally as mundane.

It took her a moment to realize he had pulled away and was now giving her that same grin again, obviously waiting for her to respond. Did he honestly expect her to respond to that in French? Was he serious? What was wrong with this picture, and why was her heart fluttering, demanding to be let out of her chest when she was supposed to hate this boy in front of her? Did she really hate him, and had she really given him a chance?

She noticed this time when he leaned in close, her breath hitching in her throat as he once again leaned into her ear, glancing quickly to the teacher's turned back. "It seems I win, again, _ma cherie_."

It took a long moment for her to realize she had been set up, perfectly and flawlessly, by the beautiful boy across the table from her.

Had she seriously considered not hating him for a moment?

One thing was absolutely certain in her anger fogged mind, and that was life in the small town of Forks was about to get increasingly interesting.

* * *

A/N: Haha, this story has been so fun to write. :) Edward/Bella rivalry is a lot of fun, and I gotta say, I love this competive Edward - anyone else feel the same way, or is it just me, 'cause I'm the writer? I dunno, probably. I'm a little insane, after all. :P

Okay, guys, because I realized this is confusing, lemme explain -

Alice is adopted by Esme and Carlisle, but Esme and Carlisle are the birth parents of Emmett - hah, different, I know. Edward is obviously adopted by them - haha, trouble, trouble. :) And, about the others, I guess you'll just have to wait up and see, huh? So, how did Edward end up in Forks? What trouble will he stir up with Bella? What will he do next? Oohhh.

Oh, right. Feel free to suggest, and comment, and...

If you don't realize by now I'm asking you very nicely to review then, eh. I've lost my touch. :P Pretty please with Edward on top?

:) Much love,

(Tu adores) Nicky


	3. Romeo is a Such a Smartass

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Twilight, but I own...well, this plot, and, that's about it. :) Yay me.

A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews. :) Haha, I love reading them, it's kind of sad, actually. Even the ones that say 'UPDATE SOON' excite me, though who doesn't like really long reviews? ;) /hinthint/

Uhm, and, well. I actually don't have much to say this time around besides this story has completely dominated my have-to-write list, because I'm having fun fleshing it out and writing the characters and such. My other stories have taken a back seat, which is bad considering I'm at the very end of YGL! and completely stuck. So, a break seems like the best thing, and this story seems like a very good option ATM. :) So, expect a lot of updates for this story - if you like it, I guess that's a good thing, right?

Woot, third chapter. I have fun coming up with titles. :P That's how much a dork I am.

Now go ahead and read the chapter, ignoring my rambling. :)

* * *

She rolled her eyes at the barking laughter that now filled the small room, and along with the high pealing bells sound that emitted from her smaller friend. It was true she hadn't much of a different reaction when she asked her two best friends to meet her after school, especially after she had made it seem like some kind of emergency. She had been keeping the knowledge that Edward was her rival from not more than two years ago, just because this kind of reaction in public would be even more embarrassing than any eye-sex comment Alice happened to throw at her.

"So, let me get this straight," Alice murmured, pursing her lips together to keep from giggling – Emmett, on the other hand, continued to bark out his amusement in loud booming laughter that bounced off the walls. "You two knew each other from kindergarten?"

Bella nodded her head, sighing quietly. What had she been thinking asking these two for advice on the matter? Then again, Alice and Emmett were her best bet at advice – really her only 'real' friends, and asking her father about this was extremely out of the question. She would ask her mother, but unfortunately she didn't have a working phone at the moment, and emails were less fast than she desired. She needed an immediate answer, and to this, she came to the two before her – one bouncing with excitement all of a sudden, the other still trying to contain his laughter.

"Okay, and you want to be better than him at something, right?" Alice questioned her, raising a delicate black eyebrow in question as she took a seat on the old sofa. Emmett finally seemed to calm himself down, a rather difficult feat for someone like that she supposed, taking his spot on the armchair. She nodded her head in response to the question, folding her arms over her chest and waiting for the point of this line of questioning.

"Well," Alice continued, shrugging her shoulders as if this was obvious, and she should have thought of it anyway, "he can't be better at _everything_. We'll just think of everything that can possibly be competitive, and work on your strong points!" Alice said this like she didn't know anything about her – what was she exceedingly good at, her so-called strong points? He had already demonstrated he was the same intelligence, if not smarter than her, something she had always thought of her strong point, her smarts.

Emmett shook his head, rolling his eyes at that suggestion, and she turned her attention to him, waiting for a more sensible answer. Of course, no answer from Emmett's mouth was ever extremely sensible – most of the time he managed to have a one-track mind – but at least it was better than Alice's idea, she mused. "No, no, no," he interjected, sighing deeply, his deep baritone laced with amusement, a grin spreading over his entire face. "See, that's not how he's going to think, is it? Everything seems to be a competition for this kid, so we can't work at just the strong points – we need to work at the weak points, too."

She knew him long enough to know the glint in his eyes, and immediately after he spoke, she groaned and shook her head. For a moment there, she thought he was honestly going to say something even remotely intelligent, but then he came out with that. She knew exactly what he was referring to, after all – anything physical or even a little bit athletic. If she tried getting better at that, not only would it be a waste of time, but she'd end up embarrassing herself in front of everyone.

"Guys, you live with him," she finally got out, nearly shouting over Emmett's new fit of low chuckles as she glared him down, "can't you find out what he's good at?" Emmett shrugged, and Alice grinned – obviously, she liked that idea. She sighed as she imagined Alice hiding in his room and observing his behavior – and then, before she could stop it, the blush rose up onto her cheeks because of what that image brought. She tried to hide it, exaggerating frustration by running her hands up and down her face, but she had a feeling Alice saw it anyway. She knew her much too well, which was both a blessing a curse; at the moment, it just happened to be her downfall.

"You need more confidence, too," Alice spoke up, grinning wide, and she groaned. Why did she have to think about his bedroom? If she could just keep her stupid hormones in check this would have never happened. Thoughts of her worst enemy's bedroom really shouldn't make her blush anyway, so why was she blushing at that? God, there was obviously something wrong with her. "You can't go to school tomorrow if you're not confident, and what better way to boost that confidence than …"

"A makeover?" Emmett finished for her, groaning. Alice nodded, grinning, and Emmett rolled his eyes, heading off to the kitchen to occupy his time with something else – she envied him at the moment, wishing she could be the one who could get up and make herself a sandwich, not listen to the makeup and wardrobe advice she was about to get, full force.

Why had she bothered asking them, again?

Oh, right. Best friends.

* * *

They were all staring at her. Had they truly not seen her in a skirt before? It wasn't even that nice a skirt, just a simple denim one, falling just to her knees. Her shirt was simple, a nice baby blue that she had fought Alice to put on, but eventually she had consented it – after all, blue complimented her skin the best, and at least she managed to look alright in Alice's eyes. She felt awkward walking through the hallways like this, especially with the looks she was getting – was it her outfit, or her makeup? Was it perhaps the soft, bouncy curls Alice had managed to put her hair in, after much battling? Either way, she didn't feel confident at all; if anything, she only managed to be more self conscious.

At least she found him. It wasn't hard to find him in the crowd; after all, she could see his reddish-brown hair from just about a mile away. His emerald green eyes were examining something from what she could see from her position, and she did her best to repeat Alice's words in her head, over and over. How exactly saying these scripted lines to him, especially because she was bound to be awkward about it, were going to help her she didn't know, but she was about to find out. At this time, she was willing to try just about anything – and if Alice had already gotten her into a skirt, she might us well try her other suggestion.

Her feet felt heavy, each step becoming more difficult as she finally reached him, her eyes automatically falling to the piece of paper he had been looking at – there was a smirk set deep into his gorgeous face, and she took a moment just to see the rest of the changes she had missed, now she was close up and not impossibly angry at him. She took a breath, shaking her head and managing to stop herself from wondering if all his skin was so flawless, pale, and soft looking, turning back to the sheet, this time finally registering what it said.

**Drama Club Sign-ups.**

**Auditions today in the auditorium – come join us as we perform the classical romance of **_**Romeo and Juliet! **_

She rolled her eyes for a moment, and then began wondering why he was even bothering looking at this. Every year the school put on a different play, repeating every once and a while one that was particularly effective, and every year, they did exceedingly bad. The drama club wasn't exactly well put together, and lost props and forgotten lines were just some of the obvious mistakes. Usually, Alice, Emmett and her when merely to make fun of the people who had signed themselves up for such torture. It was a bit of a ritual, but actually joining said production was most definitely out of the question. After all, why waste time with something that was destined to fail?

Then she saw it. In perfect script, old-fashioned by undeniably neat, there was his name on the sheet: _Edward Masen._ He was not serious. Was he honestly signing up for the school play? Did he not realize how many times it had failed, how many bad actors were in the drama club, and what a melodramatic Broadway wash-up the teacher was? Or was he doing this just to annoy her? She took a moment to scowl at him, and he most definitely noticed, flashing her one of his infamous crooked grins.

"Are you auditioning, Isabella?" he questioned, and this time her irritation made it impossible to get caught up in the perfect, melodic voice, her eyes narrowing further. "I heard these plays aren't much of a hit, but who can let such a classic like Romeo and Juliet be ruined by amateurs?"

"Since when are you a drama freak?" she snapped at him, clenching her teeth as she realized he was trying to crack her, trying to get her flustered and aggravated again. Did he find pleasure in her irritation, or was it just her imagining things? Everywhere she went; there he was, finding some way to inevitably piss her off.

"Oh, I'm not," he assured her, smiling simply, and shrugging his thin shoulders. "It just seems like a shame, doesn't it?" He sighed dramatically, and she rolled her eyes, but the way he shook his head mussed up his hair even further, landing some stray red strands in front of his deep green eyes – her breath hitched, trying to keep herself focused and not think about how soft his hair looked, how beautiful his eyes were. "Last time I checked," he continued, smirking now, "you had read that play quite a few times."

He remembered. How the hell did he remember something so trivial? For a moment she was taken aback, before she let out a quiet sigh, shaking her head. She was not going to crack and join the drama club just so she could show him that she could, and that she was far from an amateur.

"Your point is?" she snarled at him, glaring. He looked so smug as he stood there, arms now crossed over his chest, staring her down – he did not glare like her, everything about him seeming calm and relaxed. It was one of the things that aggravated her the most, of course, the fact he could always talk to her so calmly, but she always spoke through clenched teeth, trying to hold herself back from attacking him.

"I suppose I have no point. See you in Bio, Isabella," he murmured, smiling at her one last time before walking away. She watched as he walked gracefully down the hallway, watched the glances the girls gave him as he did, seeing red.

She grumbled, grabbing the pen and scribbling her name on the sign up sheet.

* * *

She was crazy. She was insane. What had gotten into her? Had she honestly done that, just so she could find a way to beat him at something, anything? Had she honestly expected she would be better at this, when his voice was so smooth, velvet, and he knew every line? Did she honestly expect any different? She must be going crazy if she had thought that, because she was nothing short of awkward.

Then again, she guessed it made sense – like him, she knew every line by heart. There was no one watching her when she had spoken, just her exuberant drama teacher, who had giggled in delight when she spoke her lines. Still, there had to be some kind of mistake. Was she really looking at the right sheet in front of her?

Emmett's loud, booming laughter behind her reminded her that she was most definitely not dreaming, and Alice's bell-like giggles were absolutely thrilled; she was probably just excited that she had managed to say anything at her audition, or something equally as unimportant. Neither seemed concerned that she most definitely could not speak those same lines in front of an audience, and look even just a little bit confident doing it. She would definitely stutter, and there would definitely be laughing from the audience – instead of her laughing at those on stage as they failed, the roles would be switched, and she would be made fun of.

This did not make any sense. Had seeing his name on the list seriously been enough to get her to audition for some stupid school play? Did he really aggravate her that much that she felt the need to try to beat him at everything? Then again, his continued annoying behavior in Bio, French, and then Lunch, too, where he seemed to stare mockingly at her the whole period (though she probably imagined that), had added fuel to the fire. She had felt the need to finally get her revenge – though why she chose _this_, she didn't know why.

She didn't notice him up behind her before his sweet breath tickled the back of her neck, and she just knew he was giving her that stupid crooked smile. "See you after school, my beautiful Juliet," he snickered, and the blush that tainted her cheeks after that caused another uncontrollable laughing fit form Emmett.

_Maybe the drama teacher won't notice if I add a scene - Juliet grabs the dagger, smiles ruefully, and plunges it into Romeo's heart, killing him in one faithful strike. That'll be a crowd pleaser - and hey, there are ways to improve classics, forget what those people say...including me, but that's beside the point. _

What had she gotten herself into? Was she really that stupid?

One last glance at the casting sheet gave the answer to the question.

**Casting for Forks High Production of **_**Romeo and Juliet.**_

**Romeo Montague: **Edward Masen.

**Juliet Capulet: **Isabella Swan.

* * *

A/N: Hahaa. Hahaa. ;) Yes, I definitely love competitive!Edward, guys. You don't know how much fun it is imagining him teasing Bella, and her getting all flustered. I am just the writer, of course so it might just be the reason why I can picture this so perfectly in my head, but you know. I just see it so perfectly, and I love it. I am falling in love with my own creation - I've created a monster. :P

Emmett, Alice, Bella interaction is also very fun to write, I have to admit. :) Emmett and Alice have always been two of my favorites, so expect them to have a big part of the story later on and all that. Yay, right?

So, Romeo and Juliet. You know that's gonna cause some problems, right? Anyway, I was going to pick another play instead of this, but I just couldn't help it. Sometimes, you have to go for the obvious, you know? :) And who doesn't like picturing Edward as Romeo? I just see it better than anything else, so that's what the play is.

Okay, and to answer a few questions - sorry I didn't answer it directly, but it was asked a lot, so I figured I could answer it here - Edward and Bella are seventeen. They were in ninth grade when they split up, making them fourteen-fifteen years old at the time. Edward's past and how he got to be with Esme and Carlisle is going to come later in the story, so just keep that in the back of your mind, and it'll all be explained later on. :)

So, right, keep on suggesting, and commenting, and all that good stuff. I might bring back my Q&A if there's a lot of questions, who knows?

If you review, I'll update faster. ;) Though you know me, an update a day is usually routine - still. Uhm. I dunno, but, you know.

OH. OH, oh, oh.

For the person who asked what Edward asked in French - haha. He basically asked if she would sleep with him. ;) Don'tcha just love seductive Edward?

Much Love,

Nicky :)


	4. A Kiss to Remember, Staged and Scripted

Dislcaimer: I own nothing. ):

A/N: And, here I am again! :) I've had horrible cases of writer's block lately. It's burning me out, so I took a different direction with this chapter then I originally wanted to, and made it ... kind of like Edward's side of the story, and all of that, even though it's in third person. /shrug

Uhm. I'd say I don't like this chapter, but apparently when I say that I get people telling me to "shut up because it's fine and you're being paranoid". I got a lot of PM's about that, when I said that for - what - the last three chapters? Hahaha. You guys are amazing. Did I ever tell you you're amazing?

Only a hundred thousand times. But still.

YOU'RE FRIGGIN' AMAZING. :)

And, besides those comments and my millions of thank you's, I bring you chapter four of ...AYCDICDB.

That's tiring to type. Needs a new nickname. Like, Jeff, or Bob...

While I brainstorm, you can go ahead and read. ;)

* * *

Life for Edward Masen had become exceedingly interesting over the past week, something he hadn't quite expected when he was adopted by a doctor in the small town of Forks, Washington. He hadn't heard much about the small town, but knew enough to know that there honestly wasn't much to learn; it was a very quiet, peaceful town according to all the search engines he had used to research it. Apparently, it rained nearly year-round, and the surrounding forestry was abundant, as well as wildlife. Then again, he had never been one for nature walks.

The family he was staying with seemed nice enough at first glance. Dr. Cullen was a kind, intelligent man who worked at the local hospital and his wife, Esme Cullen, was an interior decorator who had a wonderful reputation, as far as he could see. The other two children in the house seemed hospital, especially the almost elf-like girl by the name of Alice. She had been adopted into the family a few years ago, and she was just about the same age as Esme's only natural child, Emmett. Emmett was someone very easy to get along with as he soon found, and there were quite a few similarities between the two.

Still, it wasn't the family, as wonderful as they might be, and certainly not the sleepy, rainy town of Forks that drew him in and welcomed him. It was the girl from his past, a girl he had truly not expected to meet again. It had really only been a few years since he had last seen her - a few years since the day that changed his life, altering it forever. He would remember her anywhere, the chestnut brown hair that fell below her shoulders, to the middle of her back, the chocolate brown doe eyes that seemed to stare straight into him, and the cheeks always flushed and light pink, a constant blush he delighted in.

Even just a few years ago, when he had been fifteen and she fourteen, they had the sort of relationship he could never quite figure out. He wasn't trying to be rude to her. He hadn't been sure exactly what he felt for her, the need to strive to be better, the need to … _impress_ her. Awe her. Annoy her, even. At first, in kindergarten, he hadn't realized he'd been doing anything, of course. He had been shocked and confused and her intense hatred for him, trying more than once to try and talk to her. He remembered, now still, asking her to play catch with him. She had simply pouted, here bottom sticking out in the most adorable way - he still wouldn't forget the face of the little girl, the innocence still quite obvious in the seventeen-year-old one he now knew.

It seemed natural to slip into the rivalry they had been in for years, though sometimes, it made him wonder. Why were they like this? Why did simply being around her bring out a side of him he had not seen for years, that no one really had? Why did he _want_ to irritate her, to see her flustered, to watch the lovely blush rise onto her cheeks and know that he had been the one to do it?

Still, it thrilled him whenever he excelled at something, and not the kind of thrill one gets from winning. He had watched her work harder and harder to reach where he was, but in all honesty, he had worked just as hard to surpass her. He had watched with a smile rising on his lips as she fought to gain skills at baseball one year, for instance, when they played it in P.E.; he had honestly not been so good until he had played with one of the neighbor kids everyday in his backyard. It was enjoyable, too, but he really did it for one sole purpose. She thought him a natural, that he did not have to work to beat her - she was sorely mistaken. They pushed each other. They wore each other out. They were each others worst enemies, most bitter rivals…

Sometimes, Edward seemed to be too caught up in those flushed cheeks, that pout of adorable displeasure, and the way her brown eyes narrowed, still managing to seem innocent and doe-like to notice this. Sometimes, he simply wished he could forget.

Now, here, things just seemed to be different. He wasn't sure what the feeling was, or even if she noticed it, but he surely did. Every day after school he had been rehearsing for the school's rendition of the classic play, Romeo and Juliet, and every day, he had been getting the same satisfaction from it. He'd tease her mercilessly, she'd blush and shout a bit, and then they'd transition - transition into star-crossed lovers on the stage.

He had watched it happen the first time, and had been unsure how to take it. The way she had gazed into his eyes as she spoke her lines captivated him, the way her full, cherry red lips moved caught his attention more than it ever had. He had always reminded himself of that first day of kindergarten on - how she despised him, and how he only provoked her. That was their relationship after all, and expecting more was naïve - so he hadn't. He had simply taken what he was given, and lived with it, happily. If he was only allowed to look as she blushed and stuttered and faltered and pushed herself to beat him at something, anything, then that was enough. It shouldn't be, but unquestioningly, it was.

It was times that like that, though, that he forgot, and during the whole week, he had. It seemed like they were two other people as they spoke their lines, and he supposed it was only natural - she knew every word, as did he. They were the perfect Romeo and Juliet. Still the drama teacher found undeniable pleasure, as did the awed on-lookers.

The perfect Romeo and Juliet. For those short afternoons of rehearsals, they were the perfect couple, with the perfect chemistry. In between breaks they'd tease and huff and insult, and then, all of the sudden, there it was.

The _electricity._ The burning desire he had tried so hard to crush down, the want to be with her. He wanted to see her blush, not as he insulted her, but as he complimented her. He wanted to tell her how endearing he found her competitiveness, and at the same time, he honestly couldn't.

When they took a break, he saw the dislike in her eyes, the way she shifted off to the side. He didn't blame her. If he teased her harsher, if he pushed her more, it was less obvious. And when he was teasing her, things were like normal, as they should be - two rivals. The lovers acted was saved for the stage, where it belonged.

* * *

"Isabella," he whispered, his voice silky smooth as he grinned down at her, shaking his head. It was just after one of his favorite scenes, and she was looking nothing short of flustered - her eyes narrowed into slits, obviously waiting for him to insult her.

He tried to find one.

There had to be something. A jab, a taunt. Something, anything. He couldn't falter - he couldn't let looking into those deep brown eyes change anything. She had been ignoring him all afternoon, and he knew exactly why - he deserved it. By pushing her away, he was making it easier, making their relationship healthier. Or, for him, anyway. Easier and healthier for him. Rivalry, hatred, that's all that he needed to remember.

Still, he couldn't help but notice the way she ignored him now, as if she was desperate to get away from him, as if he was the worst person in the world to her, and he realized with disdain he probably was. He had only brought it on himself.

"You acted that scene out well," he finally choked out, and he watched the wide-eyed expression light up her voice, confused and flustered. Then, like always, there was that light pink flush.

But he was weaker than ever.

The scene couldn't go by fast enough, but this time the drama teacher seemed to have other ideas - they did a scene they had only gone over quickly, one of the very first scenes in the play. Act One, Scene Five.

He waited for her to begin her lines, his eyes watching her carefully. He always loved these small moments, these moments when she gave herself away to her acting, when she didn't hate him, at least not on the outside. He knew very well once there was a bigger audience this surely couldn't last, something he had honestly anticipated when he urged her to audition, but that's not what ended up being why he was happy she had.

"Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer," she murmured her words, and when she was acting, she seemed so unguarded. Her voice was sweet, light, not snapped or barked like he was used to. He found he liked it much more than he should.

"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair," he returned, and the look in her eyes captivated him, made his words quiet. She seemed, for the moment, like she meant it. Not the words being spoken, as they meant nothing in context, but like always he was taken aback by the look in her eyes.

Very good acting. He commended her. She truly was a natural, something he had not expected.

"Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake," she nearly whispered, her eyes seeming to widen as she noticed the expression on my face - even he wasn't focused on what he was saying as he spoke, taking it right out of his mind. The drama teacher realized soon enough they both honestly didn't need a script.

"Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged."

It took him a moment to realize what came next. He remembered the play vividly in his mind, knew the words she was about so speak - they hadn't been using actions for the play at all, but he had to try it. Here, this one single moment was his only chance. He held his breath and leaned forward, and before he could stop himself, his lips were against hers. Her full lips felt wonderfully soft against his, something he would have never expected. There was a moment when she was absolutely still, as the play actually called for anyway.

There was a moment of silence when he pulled away, her lips slightly parted, her eyes wide with confusion, surprise, and, something else that he could not identify at the moment. The drama teacher had gasped at the scene, but now applauded, urging for them to continue their well-played out, unexpected scene.

"T-Then have my lips the sin that they have took," she whispered.

A stage kiss. Nothing less, nothing more. It had only lasted for a moment - he was sure, if he continued on longer, if he pressed and deepened it more than a soft peck, that she would hate him more for it once the acting was over and the costumes put away. That was if she was even talking to him anymore - he found it hard to keep up with her, a fact he could not resent no longer how hard he tried. She intrigued him, whether he wanted to admit it right out or not. He was absolutely certain that when he died she would be the cause - this girl, with soft skin, silky brown hair, innocent, deep brown eyes, and oh, god, the _soft lips... _she would surely be the death of him, someday.

Lovers on the stage and rivals otherwise. It was silly of him to think anything more - but still, the unnecessary, wonderful kiss still burned at his lips. Just like the beautiful blush on that very first day of kindergarten, he was quite certain he would never forget that moment.

* * *

A/N: Uh-oh, spaghetti O'S! :P Yes, I finally fullfilled everyone's want to kind of sort of get in Edward's head, so here it is. The next chapter will go back to Bella, so if you didn't like it, that's just fine. :) And it will pick up right after that little "stage kiss", as I'm sure that you'll love that, won't you? Woot.

And, yeah. I used real quotes from Romeo and Juliet. They're not mine, they are Shakespeare's - I am not that brilliant. This chapter is kinda short, sorry about that, I'm a little burned out, as I said at the top.

And, by the way, I think someone asked why Edward calls Bella "Isabella" - yeah, it's really just to get on her nerves. We all know how much he loves that. ;) Actually, I think I touched on it in the first chapter, when Bella's talking about Edward in her Italian class. Yes, I think I did. If I didn't, sorry, I must have cut that out, but I remember writing it. xD You'd be surprised all the little scenes I edited out later - I have a whole bunch from YGL!, and soon to be this story, I'm sure.

And, yes. Comments, questions, suggestions, insults all that stuff is welcome. :) As long as you don't throw long, pointy objects I will keep up my stories and the bad humor and dramallamaobama that comes with it. ;)

-Nicky


	5. I Hate You, Okay? My Body is a Traitor

Disclaimer: Nope, I own nothing. :) It's alll Stephenie Meyer.

A/N: Helllooo! Sorry for the little delay in the updating. Well, it's really not that long a delay, but more than two days seems like a long time for me. :P Ehh. I've been pretty busy. Babysitting Edward, concerts, good stuff like that. Not to mention I've had, like, three hours to sleep per night. Either way, I'm updating now, so, that's good, right?

Okay, for all the people who reviewed this story, thank you so much. I feel like I don't thank you enough. :) Some of your reviews just make me grin stupidly minutes after I read them. You guys are awesome. I need to make you cool t-shirts or icons or something. Haha. No, not really. Well, maybe. We'll see. It might make up for all the times I promised one of you cookies or Edward ice cream, or news on the next chapter, or an update the next day and then make you wait three...

Hehe. :P You guys love me, remember? Right, right? Am I right?

I'm not going to go into the fact I'm not satisfied by this chapter. No. You guys are all like, 'SHUT UP AND GET SOME CONFIDENCE'. So. Uh.

Just enjoy, I guess? ;)

This babbling author's note is brought to you by exhaustion and friendly...or not so friendly...rivalries. Because you know you all wish you had a competitive!Edward to...compete with. xDD No. That was not meant to be dirty. I swear.

* * *

It wasn't as if she hadn't expected that, at some point in time, he'd have to kiss her. The thing that bothered her the most about the kiss - the stage kiss, she inwardly reminded herself - was the effect it had on her. She had expected to be disgusted and disgruntled after it had happened, to have to go home and wash out her mouth with something to get out the taste. Not like she hadn't expected he'd be good at kissing, too, just like everything else - she had just hoped for it. When she thought about a nasty taste in her mouth everything was a lot simpler.

It was far from the actual event, though. When his lips met hers, sparks flew, sparks she had done her best to deny. His full lips only lightly pecked hers, and already her heart was threatening to pound out of her chest. His breath did not, as she already knew, smell bad, but more like something she could not get enough of. It was sweet, but also something purely masculine - like peppermint. Or maybe pine trees. Something fresh and not overpowering, but something mouthwatering all the same.

His lips were gentle and she found herself as still as stone, trying to remember her lines in her jumbled up mind. His lips were only against hers for a fraction of a second and she was already beginning to hyperventilate - where his lips had touched hers they seemed to tingle, sending shivers up her spine. It was like magic. Or a curse, maybe. He had put on a spell on her. For that one moment, he had her captivated, her thoughts centering around soft hair, beautiful, cut emeralds and pine trees. Or maybe peppermint, she wasn't sure, maybe it was both. And when he pulled away, she wished she could test and see just how soft his hair was as she pulled him back to her.

Though, she somehow managed to pull herself together long enough to speak her next lines, not failing to notice the slight trembling in her tone. How had this happened? How had she allowed herself to be physically attracted to him? That's what this was, right? Lust? She had never had that for a boy. No one besides him.

Just like always, he had gotten the best for her, though this time she couldn't find it in herself to hate him for it. Instead, she was only angry at herself for getting caught up in a stupid stage kiss, one that was completely unnecessary. The drama teacher even seemed surprised, so why wasn't she angry at him? Shouldn't she be?

This was all becoming much too complicated for her. She liked him better in kindergarten, where she could glare and throw things at him and only get time outs in the 'Bad Girl' chair, alone in the corner. She almost, _almost, _smiled when she thought about how many times he had landed her in that secluded chair.

Somehow, he always got the best of her.

* * *

After the practice was over, she usually headed right for her car and got out of here before she had to run into him again, and get herself into more tiring verbal sparring. Today, though, she had different plans. Today she had a score to settle with him and questions she needed to have answered. She hoped he would be just as smug and arrogant and annoying as always, and then she could go right back to hating him. It would be just that easy, right?

"Edward," she called his name as he began to walk outside to his car - a silver Volvo, parked dangerously close to her beat up red truck. _Stupid, shiny Volvo owner. _

He turned around, looking thoroughly surprised for a moment - before that expression melted into his usual smirk, carefully composed, and he nodded in her direction. "Yes, Isabella?"

"Can I talk to you for a second?" It was hard to be civilized with him when she was trying so hard to hate him, but somehow she managed.

"Now?" he questioned, nodding towards his car and arching an eyebrow in confusion.

"No, next week," she mumbled sarcastically through clenched teeth, rolling her eyes. "Yes, right now." She took a deep breath as he nodded and walked closer to her, trying to ignore her pulse racing as her thoughts once again wandered to their kiss. They were alone in the school auditorium now, all the others having gone off on their own ways, probably home.

Edward finally reached her after what seemed like forever, one eyebrow still arched in confusion. She had to grin just a bit as she realized that she had caught him off guard for once. She usually never bothered tot all to him unless he initiated it, and lately she had been doing her best to ignore him - a nearly impossible feat. Alice had mentioned that it might make him back off just a bit, but she should have known it just made his verbal attacks, if you could call them that, that much worse.

"What did you need to talk to me about?" he asked her, and she took a moment to swallow and take another deep breath - in through her mouth and out through her noise, thoroughly calming herself. He seemed genuinely curious for once, if not a bit irritated. She wondered where he had planned to go after school, but realized she probably didn't care. It probably wasn't anything too important, after all, he could have just refused to talk to her in the first place.

"I need to talk to you about…" she trailed off, sighing and shaking her head. "Well, practice today!" How could he be so oblivious? He looked confused again, which she admitted was new and a bit adorable, but she tried her best to set those kinds of thoughts aside.

"What about it?" he asked, and she wondered for a moment if he really knew, and was trying to be coy about it or something. He seemed wary now, like he was trying to avoid the subject, but she wasn't having that.

"You kissed me," she finally mumbled, her cheeks tinting pink and her eyes moving to the floor. She was sure, absolutely certain, that the drama teacher had not asked him to. It was not even directly in the script. He didn't have to, but he did. Why? Did he just love to see her flustered and embarrassed, or what? Did he have to win and show her up at absolutely everything?

"Yes." Good. At least he wasn't denying that it had ever happened, which would have made her feel extremely ridiculous. She waited for a few moments, watching his expression - it was just as calm as ever, as if they were discussing gas prices or the weather.

He wasn't going to add anything to that sentence. Why wasn't he going to add anything to that sentence?!

"Why?" she demanded through clenched teeth, shaking her head. "Why did you kiss me? And don't give me any crap about how it was in the script, because we've done that scene before and haven't added in the kiss. The drama teacher wasn't going to add it in, but you did anyway. Were you just trying to embarrass me? To beat me at something else, and completely humiliate me again? Do you like seeing me like this, or what?

Like this. Pink cheeked and flustered, wary and unsure of what he was going to say next. No matter what she did, what she said or what she tried he always won. He always, always got the better of her, and there seemed to be nothing she could do to avoid this fact.

"Yes, I do," he murmured, and now there was that smirk growing on his lips, the smirk she both loathed and enjoyed immensely. IT was always crooked, one side of his lips twitched upwards more than the other, and if possible, it made him even more beautiful. She scowled, both at her admiration and his response.

"Is that why you did it?"

"No." He didn't seem bothered by his confession - if you could call it that, she had already guessed - nor his answer now. So why, then? Why had he done something so stupid and rash and out of the question and screwed up and wonderful and perfect and right?

She really needed to learn how to filter her own thoughts.

"Then why?" she mumbled through clenched teeth, grinding them together in her frustration. There was something very wrong with this whole picture, and she wished she could put all the pieces together, but it made absolutely no sense to her.

"I don't know." It surprised her that his voice was now a whisper, the crooked smirk wiped right off of his face. He took a moment, it seemed, to compose himself. He let out a sigh, shaking his head again, and she waited for him to add to his response, still grinding her teeth together. Luckily, this time, he continued his sentence. "Though, I suppose, your reaction might have been part of it, as well." Ah, there was that stupid smirk again. He tilted his head to the side. "Your cheeks got so flushed, and you looked absolutely shocked."

He took a moment to pause, holding her gaze, which she could only attempt - and fail miserably - to resist. His eyes were so captivating and beautiful, the deepest green imaginable, and she couldn't help but gaze into them for a moment.

"Though," he mused thoughtfully, his smirk growing to the point where it nearly split open his face, "you did not seem to want to pull away, if I remember correctly. If I might be so bold, it even seemed like you enjoyed it."

There was a long pause where she wondered what signs to have given him to believe that. She wanted so badly to be able to deny that, but she knew that it was true, and that she hated herself for it. But after all, it was his fault, wasn't it? It was his fault his lips were so full, that his breath was so sweet, and that his hair was so shaggy and - she could only guess - soft.

"Prove it," she finally managed to spit out, her eyes narrowing into slits. She wished she could slap that smug smirk right off his face, but at the moment, she couldn't quite get herself to move as the self-loathing - and the hatred she had harbored for him - began to grow and spread through her entire body.

"Alright then, my darling Juliet. That shouldn't be too hard, don't you think?"

She raised an eyebrow, about to open her mouth to question his words, but she didn't have the time. She was stunned and shocked into silence as he leaned impossibly close to her, her senses going into overload. There was that sweet scent again, something so like pine trees and peppermint. Of masculinity and sugars, something sweet like honey, something fresh and overall mouthwatering. She smelt it before she tasted it, but she didn't have long to react before his lips were pressed again hers.

Just like before, her senses overrode her screaming mind. When their lips touched there was the same spark from before, like fireworks exploding or lightning in the middle of a raging storm. All of the sudden it was as if she was falling off the face of the earth, and she needed something to keep her grounded - without thinking, her hand extended, entangling itself in his auburn hair.

Soft. It was impossibly and wonderfully soft and clean and messy. It drove her crazy, finally knowing something she had wondered about mindlessly for years, and she pulled him closer to her. She wasn't thinking anymore, letting her hormones finally have some time for themselves. His lips against hers became more persistent, soft and red, dominant and controlling - and for once, she let him willingly have that control. She had a feeling that he was supposed to overpower her this time, and she should let him. He was proving something, after all, something even she didn't understand.

What was this? This feeling in the pit of her stomach, like she was falling, and all the same time, flying? Why did the feel of his lips against hers feel so good? Why did she grab and pull at his hair like a lifeline, as if letting go would send her crashing back from the high cloud she was suddenly floating on?

Then, all too fast, it was over and done with. She crashed too quickly, feeling lightheaded as he pulled back, something clouded over in his green eyes, which now seemed just a bit darker. She didn't understand at all, and her lips formed a silent, surprised 'O' as she watched his expression turned smug.

"There you go."

She stared at him wide-eyed, nearly panting. She wasn't coherent at the only moment, so she only waited for an explanation, trying to get herself to understand the last few minutes, and why she had just made out with her worst enemy - more importantly, why she had actually liked it.

"You liked that, didn't you? I didn't feel any resistance, Isabella. Admit it. I proved it. I was right, again."

He was taunting her. Just like always, he was taunting her. Just like always, he had gotten the best of her. Just like always, he had proven her wrong, he had beaten her, though she was sure there was no winner at this game they were now playing. They were in new territory, and she wasn't sure she wanted to step any further.

She wasn't sure how to feel. She was confused, but just like always, she was angry. Just like always she felt the need to fight back against him, to lash out angrily like she always did when he seemed so assured of himself, when he beat her once again. She could never win with him, and just this once, she liked to be the winner.

What could she say? He always seemed to know exactly what to say and when to say it to piss her off, so this once, she wanted to get him angry. She decided to just go with her gut, trying to ignore the angry tears which were now forming in her eyes, inevitable but terribly annoying as he stared her down, waiting for her reaction with a smirk.

"I hate you, Edward. I really do." She shook her head, reminding herself of this little fact. It was the way things were supposed to be, right? That's the kind of relationship they were supposed to have. Rivals and enemies. That was it, as far as she was concerned. Right? "This doesn't change anything. At all. You know _that_, right?"

She watched his reaction almost anxiously, but she never expected him to laugh. He threw his head back and chuckled, but when he gazed at her again, he seemed like he was amused, and, at the same time, disappointed. Like he had expected her to say something else. That emotion was watched away all too soon, and he simply shrugged.

That same bitter smile grew on his lips, and he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, sending her into another confused frenzy. What was wrong with him? "Oh, I know."

He shrugged again, leaving her mind reeling. "I wouldn't have it any other way." He grinned, but somehow, it just didn't reach his eyes. She tried to ignore it, shrugging it off and focusing solely on the anger that boiled up in her from his tone. "_Ciao, bella._"

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he walked off. She simply watched him walk out the door, and - she guessed - to his car.

Once again, he had gotten the best of her. And why the hell did she, too, feel disappointed in his response?

* * *

A/N: :) DUNDUNDUN. This chapter was fun to write. Hehee.

So, no. I'm not going into the loveydovey "Oh! Edward! I realized all of the sudden that I'm totally in love with you and I'm going to throw away any chances of a plot and the rest of this story is going to be mindless fluff. Even though we're teenagers I'm going to marry you andlivehappilyeverafter."

Not yet, anyway. :P C'mon, guys, I like some realism, so I'm going to do my absolute best not to rush their relationship, but let it evolve by itself and change, as well as the characters. If you have any suggestions or complaints, or you think I'm pushing something a bit too far, don't be afraid to send me a PM or slap it on your review. Honestly, I can definitely take constructive criticism, and I won't chew your head off for it. I think it's actually more helpful than praise, if I'm gonna be honest. :P Not that I don't love it, 'cause you know me.

Aaanddd. That's about it, honestly. I don't have much to say - what a shocker.

Review and you get another chapter. That is my oh-so-subtle way of threatening/promising. Smart, eh?

-Nicky :)


	6. Of Smashed Volvos and Stupid Emotions

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Woot. :) I love you guys and your amazing reviews. Thank you, again, for your encouragement and praise and advice. Just wanted you to know I do read every single review and they all mean so much to me - I tend not to reply to them, though. :P Someone asked me about this before, so just wanted to clear this up. If you ask a specific question that's NOT answered in the next chapter, though, I probably will answer you. The thing is I usually get asked the same things a million times and just answer it in the A/N's.

So, going past that, let's talk about this chapter, shall we? I feel like it wrote itself. I really didn't intend to have this chapter next. I wrote it as something on the side, and I already had the next chapter written...but you know what the thing is? This chapter provides for later development, and kind of moves things along a bit. Not a whole lot - no, this isn't in the gooey fluff everyone hates (too soon, anyway). :P It's just...well, you'll see, right?

I'll babble on under the chapter, once you've read it. ;) Something to look forward to, eh?

Read onnn, my friends.

* * *

The next week was honestly the longest and most torturous one she had ever experienced. Emmett and Alice were no help, considering after she told him about her kiss - kisses, actually - they were more than gleeful. They had new material to tease her with, after all, especially on Emmett's part. It didn't help that Alice seemed to be becoming good friends with Edward, and Emmett as well, already calling him his 'little brother'. It irked her how he seemed to have everyone wrapped around a finger, and took a moment to wonder what they saw in him.

There was, of course, the soft reddish-brown hair, always slightly shaggy, usually falling into the beautiful emeralds that were his eyes. There was that stupid crooked smirk of his that always seemed to light up his face, and the smug assurance - but at the same time, he was absolutely polite, intelligent and wise beyond his years. He had certainly already caught the eyes of many girls at the school, a thought that made her roll her eyes in agitation. How he did it, she would never even begin to guess.

Practices were long and drawn out, and the usual verbal sparring between the two was always present. It seemed to be a normal addition to her day, something she had come to expect, maybe even looked forward to. Thinking about it put a smile on her lips even now; she had begun to get better and better at it, learning how he ticked, but so had he. They seemed to know better than ever how each other thought, what they did, how they worked. It was an understanding that made their relationship even more complex, but somehow even more interesting.

The days they practiced for the play became more frequent as the actual production came closer, and it became much harder to deny that she was frightened. She had promised him that she would not stutter or blush or falter during her performance, but she wondered now if that was a promise she could keep. She had always been slightly awkward, unable to function right in front of large groups. The only thing that kept her from backing out from this while she still could, of course, was proving him wrong - of finally winning.

She noticed a change over the duration of the week though, something she had not anticipated, but found to be oddly pleasant. His teasing became less harsh and more teasing, almost friendly - while her feelings for him did not change, his taunting did became less cruel, and she appreciated that. She figured he was just giving her a chance to catch up, giving himself more of a challenge in the long run, but she honestly didn't mind that. If he wanted to tilt things a bit more in her favor, who was she to complain?

Either way, it had become almost comfortable having him at school, and constantly at her best friend's house, his verbal attacks seeming almost like a part of routine by now. She realized, in a pathetic, small part at the back of her brain, that losing him now it would seem like she was missing a big part of her life. Even if he was a constant annoyance, an irritation and much too smug for his own good, he was part of her life now, and she a part of his.

Two people, destined for rivalry and hatred, and now she was considering him a part of her life, as constant as the stars in the sky - she supposed it was just like her to do so, and questioning it was not something she should bother with.

* * *

As usual, play practice had run just a bit late, their overdramatic drama teacher congratulating her and Edward for a wonderful job. On the stage, they always seemed to be stars of the show, and those that watched seemed awed and amazed. It was probably expected of him, though, and they were amazed at her - on the stage, she was Juliet, not the awkward, blushing Bella everyone knew. On the stage, things were so much simpler.

Alice and Emmett had tagged along that day, and were now by her side, Emmett giving her a bear hug that was squeezing the life out of her. She coughed, and he only grinned, giving her one more squeeze before letting go. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Edward cough to hold back a laugh, but that same smirk was now gracing his lips as he headed off to his car.

"Wow, you guys are really something, Bella!" Alice yelled excitedly, shaking her head, and giggling, the sound like a million little bells ringing. "I mean, who woulda thought, right? Did you guys ever notice that you're the perfect Romeo and Juliet?"

She only shrugged simply in answer. She had been told that more than once, but never truly commented on that, not exactly wanting to think about it after recent experiences. She didn't want to think about the sparks of electricity she had felt when his soft lips touched hers, or how soft his hair was when she had tangled her hand in it…

Emmett's barking laughter broke her out of her reverie, and she turned to him, sighing quietly. "We should get back to the house, Bells. Mom cooked this feast, it's crazy!" Alice nodded excitedly. She had to smile, too. Esme was really one of the nicest woman she had ever met, and spending the night at the Cullen house was always a pleasure - with one exception, of course. The ever-present, newest addition to the family, Edward Masen.

"Yeah, we should," she agreed quietly, and flicked the keys to her truck out of her pocket, ignoring Alice's eye roll. They just didn't expect her need for an old-fashioned car. It wasn't anything too fancy, she admitted, and it did eat gas, and with it, her money, but it was well worth it. In an accident, it would surely stand against a newer model - even, say, a shiny silver Volvo.

When she got out to the parking lot, her two best friends flanking her at either side, she did not miss the Volvo, still idling in its space right next to her truck. She groaned audibly, ignoring the snickers of her friends as she headed to her truck, unlocking the door and getting in the driver's seat, ignoring the gaze she knew was boring into her from the driver in the car next to her. She was quick to start the car and try to back out, but he was quicker, backing out in front of her with ease. She ground her teeth together, shaking her head.

_Yeah, we'll see, Mister Volvo Owner. You just wait. _

Anger boiling in her, she sped off out of the parking lot, effectively cutting the silver Volvo off, but only for a few moments. He seemed to be humoring her, revving the engine and then cutting it off and slamming on the breaks, almost as if he was challenging her. With a near growl of frustration and another howl of laughter from the backseat, she slammed down on the gas pedal, determined at the moment.

It had gone much too fast. One moment she was ahead of him, the car still in the rear view mirror, the next he was attempting to cut her off again. She'd swerved a bit in her attempt, and expected him to cut her off anyway, but that's not what happened. She hadn't even seen what happened, really, but Alice seemed to - she gasped, her eyes widened in absolute shock and fear in the mirror, and she'd screamed, "Edward, no!"

As soon as Alice had shouted out his name in terror, she wasn't sure what happened to her. Her body froze, and her reaction was immediate. Her foot slammed down on the breaks, her heart stuttered and skipped a few beats, and panic shot straight through her like an electric current. What had happened?

One look out the back window told her exactly what had happened, and exactly what she had done. Fear coursed through every single nerve in her body, her eyes widened, and she turned around to face her two best friends, trying to find words.

"Call Carlisle!" she finally managed to bark, hoping one of them would listen. "Call an ambulance, or something! Hurry, what the hell are you doing?"

She knew she shouldn't be reacting like this. He had done nothing but annoy her and insult her, minus a few moments, her whole life. He had done nothing but humiliate and anger her, so why did she care so much if he died? She knew she shouldn't, but there was only one thought going through her mind when she'd looked out the rearview mirror and seen his car, swerved off the road.

_No. Not him. Anyone but him. He can't die._

* * *

"Would you like to see him, dear?" asked an overly helpful, blonde nurse, smiling down at her.

"No, that's okay. Maybe later."

"Alright, but visiting hours are almost up."

She only nodded in response.

How long had she been standing here in the waiting room, watching Alice, Emmett, Carlisle and Esme walk in and out so many times? How long had she been waiting, and what exactly had she been waiting for? There was, apparently, no new news, but she hadn't left. Charlie had called her to ask how dinner at the Cullen's went, and she'd told him about the accident - he was concerned, wondering how she was doing, but he didn't understand. Even she didn't understand.

The fear and worry that she had felt when she'd seen his car totaled like that had worn off, but she couldn't understand the feelings that replaced them. Was it guilt? Guilt that she had been the one to ultimately push him off the road and into a ditch, totaling his expensive and, apparently, safe car? Was it her fault that he was now in a hospital bed, that Esme was sobbing, that Carlisle looked stressed and worried?

Or was it something else? Even she didn't know. She couldn't sort out her thoughts, and the only coherent ones she seemed to have was annoying and repetitive; she had done her best to block it out, but it didn't seem to want to go away. It repeated over and over in her mind like a mantra, angering and confusing her.

_Not him. Not him. He'll be okay, he has to be. He can't die. You can't let him die, Bella. _

* * *

A/N: Was that a cliffhanger? o: Oh, wow. Sorry.

Haha, not really. :P Usually I talk about what's in the next chapter, but this time, nope. Just telling you that you might get to find out more about what happened to Edward, which is probably more than you need to know. :) As to the details, well. I'm not giving out any! I feel cruel. I think this might be the first open-ended chapter of the story.

:) Anywayy. I, personally, like this chapter, but just because...well, it gives me options, and the next chapter is my favorite chapter. A little bit deeper than the others, I think that's probably why. I dunno why really, it just is. You'll see, right? Yes, I wrote the next chapter, so you'll get the update very, very soon. It was actually one big chapter, but I cut in half. Cruel, I know. ;) I do these things purposely to torture you, don't you get it yet?

I don't like this chapter at the same time. So. Uh. Yeah.

Oh, and thank you again, everyone that reads this and reviews. :)

You're all amazing, but how many times do I say that per chapter? I need new adjectives!

You're ...Cullentastic. Now review.

-Nicky


	7. Beep, Promise, Swerve, Not In That Order

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, it's all Stephenie Meyer.

A/N: Just letting you know this a very short chapter, sorry about that, and it's from...Edward's POV. But not, because this is third person. I don't know what to call it. It's still his perspective, isn't it? :P I don't know, I'm just going to call it EPOV to save us all some confusion - either way, it's his side of things, because I felt I needed to put this in here so you understood things and what happened a little better.

Ohhh, and, this chapter sure does twist things around a bit. You'll probably see why soon. Anyway, I'm EXHAUSTED, so I have absolutely no witty puns, I'm just going to tell you to try and enjoy this craptastic chapter. xD That is one of the adjectives I use regularly, btw.

Oh, by the way, if anyone's read my other story, YGL!...the reason for my exhaustion are my niece and nephew. The real Terrible Twosome Twins. :P If you don't get that reference, shame on you.

Anyways, let's get back to the story, shall we? Some of you might throw pointy things for my last cliffhanger. :P

* * *

"Edward?"

He smiled the best he could, trying to make sense of the situation he was now in, trying to make sense of the time, the place, and the stupid _noise_ he kept hearing; it was rather annoying, if not constant and a bit comforting through the confusion. He was trying to make sense of the constant _beep, beep, beep _that rang through the room at a certain rhythm, but couldn't find any, besides the fact it seemed to match the beat of his own heart. How odd.

However, the new noise, the gentle calling of his name in the air brought a smile to his lips, though he was greatly confused. One reason for this was the obvious fact he couldn't smile as wide as he liked to - it was as if there was some kind of pressure on his lips keeping him from doing so, something he could not comprehend. The second was who the beautiful voice belonged to.

_Beep, beep, beep. _The angel spoke again, and he was instantly comforted, though he tried his best to concentration on what he was saying, not the music her angel voice was against the constant beeping. "Edward, I shouldn't have done this to you. This shouldn't have happened. It was stupid, I took it too far," she whispered quietly, so quiet he had to strain to hear it. There was a ghost of a laugh, something hollow sounding - he strived to understand what was wrong with her, but couldn't place it. Why was this angel sad?

He tried to move his hand to find her face and comfort her, tried to open his eyes to see rather than hear her, but it wouldn't budge; instead, it brought him pain, and he groaned audibly. The angel sighed deeply, and he heard the noise it made when she shifted on the old hospital bed. "Are you in pain?"

He tried to nod, but it felt like he had no control over his body anymore. How odd. Was he under some kind of drug? Was there something wrong with him? What had happened to him that got him in this kind of position, and who was this girl who was speaking so kindly to him, so concerned?

"That was a pretty stupid question, huh?" the angel laughed, and he wished he could laugh along with her. She truly had a beautiful laugh, and he wished he could reach out and touch her, to comfort her. She shouldn't be afraid for him. After all, he would be absolutely fine, wouldn't he? All he needed to do was find out why he couldn't move, why he was so stiff, why there was a dull burning from the left side of his face…and what that stupid beeping noise was.

"You got beat up pretty bad. Lots of broken bones," the angel finally spoke again, trying to sound casual about it, but the sound of her voice made it obvious she was badly hurt. He had made her sad. He wanted to frown, and wondered for a moment if he had managed to do so - she paused for a moment, before touching her cool hand to his cheek. He let out a sigh of pleasure from the coolness of her hand - it didn't burn, but it was a pleasant, gentle feeling. He was frightened, though, by the croaking noise that came from his throat.

"I can't believe you swerved off the road." She sighed, and this time, it was more humorous than anything. Trying to comfort him, perhaps? Or maybe just trying to comfort herself, by the tone of her voice. This didn't make any sense, and he wished she could speak more than bits and pieces. He wished she'd put her hand back to his face, because the burning had become even worse than before. "Way to go, Mister Volvo Owner. Looks like my truck beats your new fancy car, after all." She was trying to lighten the mood for herself, but it apparently didn't work, because her voice cracked dramatically. She sounded like she was crying - no. How could something so beautiful cry, especially over him?

Car crash. It took him a moment, but it all came back. Time and place began to matter to him, and he wished desperately to get up. The girl he was talking to him…how did this make any sense? Why was she here? How had all of this happened?

He had to make sure he wasn't dreaming first. One thing at a time. He needed to learn how to open his mouth, and if this was really her, maybe he could even question her on the stupid beeping.

"Isa … Isa…" he croaked out the first syllables of her name. The word suddenly seemed like a mouthful for him. "Bella," he finished, trying to make sense of the hoarseness of his own voice. "Isa…bella."

The girl sighed, but seemed a bit pleased that he was speaking, or perhaps that he knew who she was now. "So you remember your murderer, huh?"

"I'm not…" he struggled to speak, his voice much less like a whisper, more like a rasp with the little strength he seemed to have, "dead."

Bella seemed to find this funny, for reasons he couldn't understand. She giggled quietly, and he wondered if she had nodded or not - the bed shifted, and she sighed again. "No, you're not. You're gonna be fine. You're pretty strong. Credit where credit is due."

That was his girl. This was how he remembered her. He needed to hang onto that if he was going to go back into sub consciousness soon, and he could feel it coming on, slipping on him and calling him back. He wasn't ready to go back. He had things to say to her. Credit where credit was due.

"Con…grats," he started, finally getting used to the rasp that was now his voice, the weak croaking that seemed to come from deep in his chest. How many meds was he on? Exactly how many was a 'a lot of broken bones'?

"For what?" she questioned quietly, obviously confused. He resisted the urge to sigh; not because he didn't want to, she deserved it at the moment, but just because he didn't want to waste his breath.

"Winning. Finally … beat me." Full sentences were too hard. He was obviously under some kind of strong drug, and every second he stayed awake, the hardest it was to fight, the worse the pain seemed to be. It was obviously telling him that he was killing himself, and he needed to go back to sleep, to recover, or something. How much did he need to recover from? He tried to remember his conversation with Carlisle earlier, but couldn't. He needed to focus, though. Focus on her. Focus on the angel's voice. "Congrats, Bella."

Her full name was much too hard to say in one breath. With a sudden intake of breath, he swore he heard her let out a sob, something he didn't understand. He was admitting defeat, why did this make her feel worse? Did she honestly think that he had swerved off the road because of _her_? It wasn't her fault, really, it was his. It was him who felt himself losing control of the wheel, who realized he might not be able to slam the breaks fast enough to save her - and his step siblings, too. It was his fault he jerked the steering wheel and landed himself in a hospital bed, not her's, right?

"Don't die. I realize you're strong, but you have to keep it up, okay?" The tone of her voice startled him, because now he was sure she was crying. Why was she crying for him? She was supposed to hate him. He had come to terms with that so long ago. Lovers on the stage, rivals elsewhere, right? What was she doing? Why was she making this harder? "Please! What the hell are you doing?" the barking of her tone startled him again. She needed to make up her mind.

"I don't know why I don't want you to die, but I don't, and you can't just die on me like this. It's … it's giving up!" she shouted, and he swore he heard the nurse in the background, telling her to calm down. He wanted to check and see if she was really crying, but found he still couldn't. Damn it. He needed to see, needed to see her, to make sure he wasn't dreaming. "You're letting me win, Edward. You're letting me win. If you die, you're forfeiting. What are you doing? You always win, Edward. You _always win,_" she growled, and he couldn't understand the tone of her voice, the desperation. What he did understand, however, was the always present resentment, and he could deal with that.

He always won. He strived to win. He couldn't let her down now, could he? He couldn't deal with her so weak and vulnerable now, sobbing at his side. She was so much stronger than this. He had to push her like he always did. He had to push both of them farther, he had to help her as he had always done over the years, in his own way. He couldn't help her exactly how he liked, so this way always worked.

The last conscious thought was, _just you wait, Isabella. You're right, I always win. I promise to beat you again. _With the last ounce of strength he had, he worked up a smirk, a bit of a signature for him. Crooked on one side, pulled up just a bit too much. He only hoped it was effective. He only hoped she saw it, that she understood. As long as he had any strength left, he would fight to keep himself alive.

For her. He didn't understand why though. As he slipped under, finally, almost sighing at the comfort it brought him, he wondered why this girl meant so much to him. He shouldn't care so much. He hated him, he shouldn't swerve off the road to save her, he shouldn't fight to stay alive with only her on his mind -

But it was the thought of her hair, soft and brown, always slightly tangled, her smile, bright and pure, her voice, soft and a bit shy all the time, but aggressive when she talked to him, and her lips, her cherry red lips moving against his that kept him fighting.

It might just be the drugs, but he had a suspicion that it wasn't. The gentle beeping in the background suddenly seemed like a far less important mystery.

* * *

A/N: This is a really short chapter, but it was supposed to be. :) By the way, guys, don't worry. He's not paralyzed, my friend/new editor and my brother both came to that conclusion. :P Nah. I would never do that to my Edward. Yes, this competitive!Edward is now my Edward.

Oh, and, uh, role reversal, much? Ohhh. Someone needed to make Eddie the vulnerable, hurt one. ;) That someone is me. Going where no author has gone before. I've seen "Bella gets in a car accident and Edward totally comes and saves her ass at the hospital" plots, guys. Well, here you go. I think this is what Eddie needs to realize things, that she is strong and he has to give her a chance at the glory, too. He needs to realize his own feelings, and so does she, so yeah, this was pretty important.

And for this who are calling Edward and "ass", read the fourth chapter, guys. ;) He's confused and doesn't know what to do or how to break out of a relationship he's been in for YEARS, and he's not even sure if he wants to.

Okay, guys, I need your criticism, etc.! Now more than ever. I'm asking for indepth here guys, nitty gritty. I'm probably asking for too much. :P The thing is, you guys are amazing, but I've been uncomfortable with what I've been posting lately, so if you want to give me, right down to it, what I'm doing right (what you liked), what I need to work on (what you didn't), you don't know how helpful that is.

"Update soon pleaaase, when are youz gonnaa updatez?"

Is not so helpful, but perfectly fine, too. xDDD

:) I love you all. Don't want to sound greedy, but you know me. As one of you so gracefully (coughcough, haha, yeah right coughcough) pointed out, "you need to get some self confidence, because everyone else sees this is wonderful, why can't you?"

I wish I knew. :P Ohhhh. And, one more thing.

You're all CULLENTASTIC. If you use that word, make sure to mention me. ;) My word. Myyy word. /growl

Spreadin' the love,

-Nicky


	8. Yes, Oh Great One, I'm Your Loyal Genie

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. :) Nope, if you hadn't figured that out yet, I'm not sure what to tell you. It belongs to S. Meyer, though, and she is one lucky girl...

A/N: First of all, I'd just like to say that this chapter was a ton of fun to write. It kind of wrote itself and I didn't think about it as much - not like it wasn't planned, but ... just the writing wasn't, I guess? I dunno, every chapter of this story is a lot of fun to write, so I hope you guys have just as much fun reading it.

Anddd, for all those people who loves the role reversal, I liked it, too. ;) Plus, it totally set things up, which is why I also love it. I don't want to spoil this chapter, but I did not make this a cliche like some people expected me to. Woot, I beat TWO cliches in one story, man. I'm on a role!

So, once again, thank you for all of your reviews and your feedback. Oh, and for the people who used my adjective, it's dramallamaobama all over again. :P Except, not as much fun to say really fast.

You're vamptastically cullentastic, which is like...probably against some secret rule of writing and adjectives. :) But, you know. I like to break rules. Pshaa.

SO, without FURTHER ADO (because I always, always seem to have a lot to say eve when I say absolutely NOTHING xDD), enjoy.

* * *

"Isabella?" his unmistakable velvet voice whispered from the off-white hospital bed. His voice still sounded a bit weak, but at the same time, she knew he was rapidly recovering. The deep scratches on the left side of his face - she could only imagine how he got those and how painful it was to get them - were slowly healing, and his broken bones setting in place, on the road to a hopeful recovery. The crash itself hadn't honestly been too horrible, and he was definitely going to be fine.

The bad thing about this situation, though, was that he had caught her. Over the past few days or so she had been coming in every day after school, and waiting until the nurse announced he was sleeping. Alice and Emmett had teased her mercilessly for it, but the thing was, she couldn't bring herself to care what they thought anymore. She wasn't sure what to think about the situation herself, so the thoughts of others - even her best friends - had to be pushed aside for the time being.

She wasn't sure what she expected to see every time she came, because it was nearly always the same thing. She wasn't sure if it was her guilt that brought her here or the odd gravitational pull he held towards her, something she still didn't understand. Somehow, they always ended up together, and she during the past days, most of the time, she had just ended up at the hospital. She hadn't thought about it, really, but in the back of her mind, she knew she had to.

In the back of her mind, she was eating herself alive for being the reason Edward Masen was laying in a hospital bed, the most vulnerable she had ever seen him.

"Y-Yeah?" she murmured in response, inwardly cursing her luck. Every day she had come here he had been sleeping, so why today did he choose to be awake? She wished she could disappear into the walls, but tried to keep her cool for the time being.

He grinned when he saw her, lopsided and a bit off; it wasn't like his usual crooked grin, but more like he was attempting one and failing. Was something wrong? Did he remember her performance the other day, her moment of weakness?

That reminded her of why she did not want to come here in the first place, at least not consciously. Would he tease her for her moment of weakness? Would he pick on her for her desperate pleading, the need she had felt to keep him alive - or did he not remember it, as she so desperately wished he didn't?

"I'm alive," he announced quietly, and there seemed to be something of a genuine grin on his lips now, something less forced. She nodded simply, but he continued, chuckling soon after. "I guess I won, didn't I?"

So he did remember. He didn't seem to be bothering to get right to the teasing, but she was certain that it was going to come soon. "Guess you did," she mumbled, sighing quietly. Realizing she probably wasn't going to get out of here fast enough, she took a seat, quite reluctantly, at the edge of the hospital bed.

"So, how did it feel to win?" he questioned next, and she bit her lip, wondering how to answer. It seemed to take a lot of energy, but he sat up in bed, cocking his head to the side in mock curiosity. She couldn't help but find it a bit adorable - as much as she tried to deny it - how he looked so much like a puppy dog like that, his auburn hair falling into one of his eyes.

She opened her mouth to try and find a reasonable retort to that, but he continued, holding up a finger as if telling her to wait a moment for him to finish. "I mean, I suppose running me off the road wasn't exactly the type of winning you had in mind…but it is something. I'll give you that, Swan."

She scowled, but couldn't help but grimace at his words, the guilt digging up on her and hitting her full-force in the face. She had been the one to run him off the road, and here he was, joking about it. It seemed so typical of him, but she wondered why he wasn't bothering to rub it in her face more, why he seemed more friendly rather than obnoxious and arrogant.

She wanted to tell him off, because while he was a bit more civil than usual, he was still being himself, even sitting in a hospital bed. He was still teasing her and finding a way to take nothing seriously, even her totaling his car and landing him in a critical care unit in a hospital. She wanted to, honestly, but she couldn't find her voice. The guilt crept on her, and other words, kinder words, slipped out before she could stop them.

"I'm sorry for that," she murmured, her eyes finding the floor. She didn't know why, but she had the suspicion that his eyes were on her, and if she had not been fighting her with every bit of strength she had, the rising pink color on her cheeks would be quite obvious.

"It's fine." Her head snapped up immediately, wondering where this came from, trying to see his expression. She realized, with a sinking feeling, this wasn't the end of this conversation by the familiar smirk rising on his lips. It was crooked on one side, as usual, smug and almost perpetual, inevitable at least once whenever she saw him. It was like a signature, and while beautiful, she also knew she was in trouble. "After all, you can make it up to me, can't you?"

"Make it up to you?" she repeated incredulously, shaking her head and narrowing her eyes. "What the hell are you talking about? I don't have to _make it up to you -"_

"Miss Swan!" he interrupted, his voice mock stern, but she could tell by his smirk how greatly he was enjoying this - it made her sick to her stomach, and she glared harder. "Are you saying," he started, his smirk growing by the moment, "that you put me in a hospital bed, and yet, you are not going to find a way to make it up to me? Do you also realize that I could sue you…have you seen my car lately, by chance?"

She grit her teeth together. He wouldn't dare, and she knew he wouldn't, plus, she wondered if she was even at fault. _He_ was the one who swerved off the road, after all. If she hired a lawyer - though how she would hire one, on Charlie's salary and her small savings she would never know - she could probably get off. Or close to it. _I think so, anyway. _It was a good thing she didn't plan on going to law school.

It wasn't these thoughts, though, or even really his words that made her speechless. It was the fact that, technically, it really was her fault he had swerved off the road, and it was her fault that he was now in a hospital bed. If he wanted something in return - though what he could possibly want was beyond her - wasn't it her duty to give it to him, whatever it may be?

"What do you want?" she snapped, her voice acid as his smirk grew. He knew he was getting what he wanted, and she knew that he was quite proud of himself at the moment. Just like always, he had her wrapped around a finger, and it was probably going to his head right about now - not like it already wasn't too big to fit through a door, but that was beside the point. "Three wishes? I really can't give you anything. I don't have money, if that's what you're looking for."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Money? How materialistic do you think I am?" He pursed his lips. She bit her tongue. "No, your first proposal, on the other hand, seems like a good idea."

"Three wishes? I'm not a genie, Masen," she mumbled, rolling her eyes. "I'm not going to follow you around and wait for you to give me three requests like some -" She watched his expression, the amused look he was giving her, and she realized she had no choice. "Fine. Fine!" she shouted, rolling her eyes and throwing her hands in the air in mock surrender.

"You've got three wishes. I am officially your loyal genie in a bottle. Use them wisely," she seethed, her voice dripping with sarcasm, and he laughed heartily, before laying back down. "What the hell do you want? Again, I really don't have much to give you."

Edward seemed to contemplate this for a moment, but she knew he already had his three wishes down. Somehow, she had a feeling she was better off giving him her house and every cent she and her father owned. Actually, she was better off in the hospital bed.

"Wish number one. I want you to stop insulting me until I'm better. No taunting, no cursing, no yelling. It's not too much to ask, really." She stared at him, wondering if he had gone crazy. He expected her to sit back and let him fire off jabs and taunts at her, while she sat there and took it? She opened her mouth to protest, but he grinned, expecting this and holding up a finger. "Hey, you already agreed, now didn't you? You are my loyal genie now, Swan."

She could only glare at him, trying to find her voice through her anger. What the hell had she gotten herself into? She really wished he had given him the money now. At least she would have kept _some_ of her dignity, then.

"What else do you want?" she sighed, resigned.

"That's all for now. I'll give you the other two later."

She simply shook her head, rolling her eyes. She opened her mouth, about to call him some not-so-nice names, but he held up a finger, his eyes flickering with amusement, his lips set back into that smug smirk of his. "Ah, ah, ah, Isabella," he cautioned, chuckling. "I have a feeling whatever you're going to say is not so nice."

She couldn't wait until he was out of the hospital bed so she could put him back in it, personally.

* * *

Emmett's barking laughter was much too loud for her pounding head as she sat in the Cullen living room. Alice was obviously trying to hold back laughter, but failing, and she sighed, shaking her head. "Go ahead, Alice. It's not like my mood can get any worse." As if she had been holding it back for hours, Alice's bell-like laughter joined Emmett's in the large room, bouncing off the walls.

"Okay, Bells, seriously," Emmett chuckled, obviously trying to compose himself, "he … he asked you to be his… his _loyal genie?_" He repeated, and though that wasn't exactly how the story went - she might've exaggerated just a tad - she nodded, sighing in exasperation. He, predictably, burst out into hysterical laughter again.

Suddenly, Alice was bouncing up and down, jumping off the couch and squealing nonsense she couldn't quite understand at the moment. She sighed, waiting for her to finish her bout of excitement, trying to drown at Emmett's laughter and the whole situation as a whole. "I've got an idea," Alice chirped excitedly, grinning wickedly. She smiled, cheered by Alice's enthusiasm.

"Really? It probably won't work, but," she mumbled, shaking her head.

"Oh, it will!" Alice giggled, her grin bright. "I mean, it doesn't solve the problem, but if I know Edward, it'll mortify him!" She bounced again, shaking her head, her black spikes bouncing with her. "Tomorrow Edward gets released from the hospital."

Emmett nodded, grinning. "You think he'll want Bella to _serve_ him at home… in his room with the -"

"Shut up, Emmett," both she and Alice snapped at the same time, and she couldn't help but grin, despite her currently foul mood. It was starting to brighten at Alice's words, though, and just a bit at Emmett's teasing, as annoying as it was.

"Probably, but either way, we'll get Bella here. It's a good thing we just happen to be her best friends and live here too, huh?" She nodded, grinning wide. "C'mon, guys. We gotta get to the party store."

* * *

A/N: Hahahaaa. :) I giggled while reading this over. I must be tired, huh?

Bella is Edward's genie, Emmett totally was about to crack a sex joke, and Edward is milking this for all it's worth. But, no, they did not go the cliche road, like "OMG, Edward. You almost died and I realized I love you", "I love you too, let's make out and get married and have babies". Don't hate me for making this slow. Realism, remember? I'm trying, guys. :P If I skipped to the romance you wouldn't have as much fun.

OH. And Alice. Alice is planning. ;) C'mon, guess what she's planning. If you get it right, I'll give you some Edward ice cream. :PP

I'll give you a hint, guys...

IT'S ALICE.

'Nuff said. :)

And, with THAT said, review, review, review. You know why? Huh? Huh?

...Because. I said so. I ran out of things to offer/ways to threaten you/guilt trip you.

But still. You review, you get more chapters deal still stands. ;)

Love YOUR Loyal Genie,

-Nicky


	9. Is That An Order?

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

A/N: Woot! This is a pretty long chapter. I feel proud of myself, because I had major writer's block, but suddenly I had this idea...and well. Thw words kind of wrote themselves, so this chapter took a slightly different turn than I expected, but I think I like it better this way. :) Hope you guys feel the same! Not like you know what I had written before, so you have nothing to compare it to, but oh well.

Okay, I just want to say thank you to all of the reviewers who encouraged me to keep writing and have confidence in what I do write, because you know what, you guys ARE truly Cullentastic. There is not much that beats you. :P So, yeah. Just expressing how much I love you, basically.

Ohh. And. For those of you who guessed Alice's little plan, a lot of you happened to be right. ;) Now read on and see which ones!

* * *

She gritted her teeth together, glaring at the reflection of herself in the mirror, and more importantly, the reflection of her two best friends standing there on either side of her. Alice was grinning wide, every one of her perfect white teeth flashing in the mirror as she stared in her reflection, shaking her head. Emmett, on the other hand, was grinning for a completely different reason, and it was quite obvious that he was close to another burst of hysterical laughter, and was only holding on by a thread.

"What is this going to do, exactly, Alice?" she demanded, rolling her eyes, and turning away from the mirror with a scoff of disgust. "I look like the genie who serves on street corners." She still didn't see how this solve her problem at all, and she was more than a little irritable knowing that Edward was sitting in the other room, sitting on the couch. Carlisle and Esme had gone out to some hospital function, and Alice had decided to put her plan to action now that they were all alone.

"Well," Alice began, still grinning and seemingly unaffected by her rotten mood, "I'm not entirely sure, but don't you think it'll embarrass him? He'll back down if he gets intimidated enough, don't you think? C'mon, Bells, think about it." Alice sighed in exasperation, as if this was all too obvious, and it was her fault for not getting the gist of this ridiculous plan. "He doesn't expect you to play along, does he? Just go out there and do your thing."

Emmett finally let out the laughter he had been holding in for just about hours, shaking his head and nodding. "Yeah, go do your thing, Bella." He was smirking now, obviously finding the humor in this situation. With a resigned sigh, she turned back to the mirror for one more good look at herself, and had to cringe at what she saw.

It wasn't her who was looking back at her, no. It was someone entirely new. She would never wear anything like this in public for Halloween - which was what this costume was designed for - even if someone paid her to do so. The light blue top was nothing more than a strip of cloth, covering just the essentials, and her entire midriff was completely exposed, something that was currently humiliating her. She was going to let Edward see her in this? Furthermore, she was letting even Alice and Emmett see her in this? The top was long sleeved, but not at all modest; the sleeves flared out in see-through fabric.

Her hair was done up in some kind of intricate headpiece, blue and gold, but of course Alice had made it look fashionable rather than someone who had decided to play dress up. It flowed down her back in a long braid. She reached up to touch it, frowning and wondering how many little ribbons were tied in, but Alice swatted her hand in warning, and she simply sighed in response. How she got herself into these types of situations she would never truly know. Alice had even gone as far as to give her a blue choker to put around her neck - she said something about paying attention to the minute details, but she hadn't honestly been listening.

Her pants were also blue, baggy and flaring out, in the 'genie-like' fashion, according to TV shows and movies. The outfit itself, despite being extremely revealing and wildly over the top, even for Halloween, was actually rather comfortable, and she was thankful for that. She sighed once more at her reflection before turning away, shaking her head in disgust. She didn't feel like herself, and when she was about to open her mouth and protest against this whole ludicrous plan, Alice sighed too, grabbing her shoulders and forcing eye contact.

"Look, Bella," she mumbled, rolling her eyes. "You need to be confident in yourself, okay? That's half of the experience. This situation is never going to get any better unless you gain some confidence, and this might help - plus, I just really want to see Edward squirm." Emmett laughed heartily from behind them, shaking his head as he leaned against the bathroom door; he obviously agreed with this statement. "Now, go out there and work it!"

"What am I, a Covergirl?" she mumbled, but all the same, she had the sinking suspicion that Alice was right, she just didn't want to believe it at the moment. Alice grinned, shrugging her shoulders simply.

"I was going more for that old TV series with the genie, but that works too, I suppose." She shrugged again, and the grin on her face grew before she shoved her out of the bathroom, Emmett laughing all the while. He seemed to find pleasure in everything that caused her pain.

* * *

The walk to the living room suddenly seemed like it took forever. Alice and Emmett had promised they'd be tasteful on their eavesdropping, and had decided they might as well go find some other way to entertain themselves now Alice couldn't play Barbie with her and Emmett couldn't laugh and crack jokes about Alice playing Barbie with her.

When she finally made her way to the room she was looking for, she bit her lip at the sight in front of her. Edward was sitting on the couch watching whatever sports game was on the television, but he looked absolutely bored, almost as if he wasn't truly watching. His crutches were leaned against the side of the couch, she noted, but she was honestly just buying time. Clearing her throat, she finally stepped in front of the TV, holding her breath.

She had closed her eyes sometime along the way, but even then, she had a feeling that his reaction was not entirely immediate. There was long pause, a silence when she figured that she had made a complete fool of herself. Obviously, he hadn't reacted in whatever way that Alice had thought he would, and she slowly opened her eyes, wondering if she could bear to be so humiliated - she was absolutely certain that her cheeks were a bright crimson color.

The look on his beautiful face was priceless, though. His emerald green eyes were widened in something like shock, amusement, and some other emotion that she couldn't place at the time, shaking her head. He looked honestly awed by her, and his mouth was open - she found it comical. She had made Edward Masen's jaw drop, and she couldn't help but find satisfaction in this small but important - to her, anyway - fact.

"What are you wearing?" he asked quietly, his eyes trained on her. His eyes finally darted back to her face after noting every aspect of her outfit, it seemed, and she felt the blush creeping back, this time for an entirely different reason. Did he honestly have to stare that hard at her?

"What does it look like I'm wearing?" she murmured, trying to be as indifferent as she possibly could - mostly because she wasn't allowed to be impolite or insult his intelligent at the moment, one fact that made her very aggravated. "I am your loyal genie, after all, Oh Great One." She grinned at her own title, shaking her head. Once she pretended she was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, not some risqué genie costume, things were much easier.

"Hmmm," he hummed, and she knew she was in trouble when she saw that familiar smirk rise up on his lips. She shook her head, already having a feeling what he was thinking, and she knew she couldn't do it.

"I think you should wear that outfit more often. I think that might be my second wish," he all but whispered - she wondered if it should bother her that he still seemed awe-struck, looking down at her in almost disbelief from where he sat on the couch. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

"No dice." He raised an eyebrow and the smirk returned, but she held up a hand to silence him, shaking her head again. "All good genies have their limits. This is one time deal. But…" she trailed off, biting on her lip. Alice said she needed confidence, right? Well, first thing was first. "I'll make a deal with you."

"Alright, I'm listening," he allowed, a wide, crooked grin spreading over his lips now as he leaned more comfortably against the couch, his former shock melting away from his expression - it became maddeningly smug again, and she wanted to wipe it right off. In fact, she would wipe it right off. "What's the deal?"

"The deal is, we have a competition. You win, I wear the costume and you get three more wishes in addition to the last one you have. I win, I don't wear the costume at all, but you still just lost your second wish - and besides, I get the joy of finally beating you at something." She tried to keep her expression neutral, but she knew he saw through it - his smirk was wide, and he shook his head, overly confident.

"You're on. Name your game, Swan."

* * *

"I can't believe you beat me."

His eyes were wide as if she had just found the cure to cancer, and it irritated her to no end. It had not even been a wonderful victory, just a simple game of Checkers, and she still didn't understand how she won, either. All she knew was that she could definitely lose bad in this situation, she supposed it motivated her. Edward, on the other hand, seemed to lack concentration, let alone concentration.

At first she had been a bit concerned at the glazed over look in his eyes, the way he seemed to stare at her blankly. He shook his head every once in a while, looking away when she caught him looking, and the first couple times she had wondered if it was pain from his injuries, but she soon realized it was anything but. Either way, she had finally beaten him at something, and she was practically exploding with satisfaction. All these years, he had always seemed to be just one step ahead of her, always thinking, but she had found him in a weak spot, and how, she would never know.

Of course now there was sure to be reciprocation, he would just come back at her twice as hard when he was focused again, except this time, she looked forward to it. How she got so used to the odd relationship she had with the bronze-haired boy across from her she would never know, but with a sudden sinking feeling, she realized something she had failed to earlier. Across from her, said boy with the bronze hair was smirking, his head cocked to the side slightly. She bit on her lip, looking down just to make sure that her skimpy top had not fallen off or something, and wondered for a moment why he was staring at her.

"Did you let me win?" she questioned, narrowing her eyes in suspicion, as if to try and change the subject. He laughed quietly, but shook his head in response.

"No. I promise you I didn't let you win. Congratulations, Isabella." He said her name with the same Italian accent as that first day in Italian class, the day the rivalry had grown, the day that there had been a whole lot of fuel added to the fire. She bit on her lip thinking about it, but he continued. "So, I only have one wish left, correct?"

"Right. Better use it wisely, Masen," she cautioned sarcastically, rolling her eyes. The whole genie, 'three wishes' concept was still completely ridiculous to her, and how they had ended up in this agreement she still didn't understand.

"I know what I want," he stated simply, and instead of the smirk she suspected, there was just a simple smile. "Just remember that you promised already, alright? I don't want you backing out, now." There was an amused glint in his eyes, but he shook his head, seeming to remain serious.

Her eyes narrowed further into slits, every part of her body and her mind telling her he was luring right into some kind of trap of his, just like he always did, but curiosity was eating away at her. Biting on her lip and sighed quietly. "Just tell me what your wish is."

He smiled. "I want to take you out to dinner sometime. We don't need to come up with a date right now, and at the moment I can't exactly drive, so we'll have to work out the ideas later. I just want to let you know that is my third and final wish, considering my second had been wasted." He grinned, but there was something burning in his eyes that she did not understand, something that muddled her brain. Why was he asking this of her? They were enemies, rivals!

He wasn't supposed to take her out to dinner. She wasn't supposed to be at his house, and she wasn't supposed to feel comfortable around him. All of this wasn't right or natural, but her gut feeling told her that, inside, she wasn't completely against it as she wanted to lead herself to believe. She could lie on the outside, she could put on a brave face and act like a marauder, but she was certain that she could only really lie to herself for a limited amount of time. She already knew the truth.

Shaking her head, she sighed, rolling her eyes and trying to push back her pestering thoughts, wishing she could control them. "Is that an order, as your loyal genie?"

"Yes. Yes, it is." He smirked simply, shaking his head - again, she was momentarily dazzled by the way it fell into one green eye, unbothered by the scars and bruises surrounding it. Even covered in injuries he was nothing short of gorgeous, and there was no way to deny that. "I should have said, 'I am taking you out to dinner', shouldn't I have?"

She nodded, trying to find her voice, trying to make sense of this situation. "That probably would have been more appropriate, yeah."

There was a long silence where neither of them moved nor said anything, they simply stared at each other. Through his eyes, she could see her exact emotions mirrored perfectly. There were the flickering of confusion at the situation, the uncertainty, the intrigue, and the subtle emotion in his eyes that she could never quite pick out. She wondered if he saw it in her own brown eyes, too.

Before she could speak again, he had moved closer, scooted - with difficulty, due to his broken leg - to the edge of the couch, wincing a bit in pain. She bit her lip and was about to ask him if he was alright, but he beckoned her closer. Moving from her spot on the couch, she slid onto the seat next to him instead, wondering why she didn't protest or question him.

She knew she had to say something, though, when his face was suddenly dangerously close to hers. "What are you doing?"

"Kiss me," he whispered simply, sending her into a shunned state. She tried to understand the situation, his voice, his expression, but she couldn't, not at all.

The words sent tingles down her spine, shocks of electricity that she honestly didn't understand. Part of her wanted nothing more than to feel his soft, full lips moving against his, and she hated it, because she didn't understand it, didn't know where it came from.

"You're out of wishes," she pointed out, a light pink blush spreading onto her cheeks before she could stop it. Nothing seemed easy or natural, and she realized that was because it wasn't. Step by step, they were ruining the carefully set boundaries between rivals and friends, the wall she had set between them, that she had built up herself. It had always been hatred when she stared into those green eyes, but at the moment, it was nothing but. She wanted to run, but at the same time, she couldn't get her leg to move.

"That's alright," he murmured, shaking his head, a crooked smile on his lips. "It wasn't an order, Isabella."

She didn't have to ask, because she knew, and before she could think twice about it, she was leaning forward. She knew she had to be careful not to upset any injuries that had formed on his face, only knowing that would bring her more guilt, and she'd probably end up being his French maid next. Though, these thoughts were pushed aside when her lips met his.

It was nothing like anything she had ever felt before, not even the kisses they had shared together before. It felt like every single nerve ending in her body had sprung to life, everything inside of her was suddenly on fire. It was fireworks. It was light, it was brilliance. Their lips moved together in an intricate, graceful dance as old as time, and without her consent her fingers came to entwine themselves in his impossibly soft reddish-brown hair. He let out a quiet sigh against her lips, and her mind was reeling, but at the same time, she wasn't thinking at all.

She didn't know what she was doing, but at the same time, she knew exactly. It didn't feel wrong to close her eyes, and she did not make a noise, only a soft whimper as his warm palm came to rest against her cheek. He gently stroked there, his thumb moving in gentle circles as his lips moved against hers, and she pulled against his hair, trying to bring him just a little bit closer. She wasn't sure how long the kiss lasted, how many times they gasped for air and their desperate lips connected once more, but her eyes finally opened, and she realized what had happened.

She bit her lip, pulling back and shaking her head. "This isn't right, Edward," she mumbled, shaking her head. She wished it was, it certainly felt right, but remembering who it was, who she was kissing and how she felt made it seem unreal, and completely wrong.

"I know," he murmured, much to her surprise, and he simply grinned at her shocked expression. "I'm not sure about anything either. I don't think we're supposed to be."

She narrowed her eyes, trying to understand the tone of his voice, his expression. "That doesn't make any sense," she mumbled, and he simply shrugged, letting out another sigh in exasperation.

"Just tell me one thing, Isabella." She just nodded, unsure if she could answer at the moment. "Did you enjoy that, or am I reading your body language completely wrong?" She blushed a deep scarlet, and he shook his head, chuckling quietly. She knew that he had the answer he wanted, and she was thankful that he did not press further on the matter.

"That's all I needed to know."

* * *

A/N: I, personally, love this chapter. Why? Because it's a stepping stone towards progression, Bella finally got her moment where she won something (and has the guts to try again with something else) and I love Alice up at the top, with her best friendness. :)

Hahaa. I used an old genie costume my sister wore one year as a reference for this chapter, by the way. I remember the day she wore it, like years ago, my brother was like, "dude, are you trick or treating on street corners, or what?" He was kidding, it wasn't THAT bad, but yeah. Ahhh. :P That's where Bella's quote came from, in case you needed to know, but you really didn't. It just makes it more personal for me.

And, what else did I need to say? OH YEAH. Thanks for the support on the realism, guys. Just tell me if I'm going too fast or slow, or anything else. Criticism...constructive criticism, is amazing. ;) Did I go a little too fast in this chapter? I felt like I did for a second, but I think I'm going at a pretty nice pace, considering the story.

Review and. Uhm.

I'll get you one of those snazzy genie costumes. :P

Or just another chapter. Sound good? Good.

-Nicky


	10. Rivals With Benefits? That's a New One

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Twilight. :) Stephenie Meyer does!

A/N: Anndd, another quick update! Woohoo! Except, this time, I can't say it's long, because it's really not. :P Very short chapter, guys, almost to the point of being a filler, but it was necessary, so hah. :) I actually originally went into the next chapter a bit, but decided not to - yeah, I'm evil like that, because next chapter is definitely one of my favorites! (Hey, something to look forward to.)

Anyway, thank you SO much for the reviews and the encouragements, you've got my love in return. Now, in risk of being redundant, you're amazing, fantastic, wonderful, out of this world, crazy-good, twilighterific (hah, new adjective), and ... Cullentastic, of course. :) Thanks so much, and I hope you continue with your amazing..ness.

Or whatever. Just read, guys. My brain is fried. xDD

* * *

_She blinked as her eyes slowly fluttered open, near blinded by the harsh natural light streaming in through the windows. She groaned quietly, throwing the blanket over her face to shield her poor eyes, trying to ignore the soft chuckle from above her. She hated that he was a morning person, but she supposed she had to accept all of him, even his annoying qualities._

_"Wake up, sleepyhead," came a husky voice, but somehow even when it was deeper it succeeded in being velvet-like, like sweet music to her ears. The most beautiful symphony, and one she knew all of the notes to. His voice was teasing, and he gently pulled the blanket away from her face._

_She decided to be difficult, stubbornly keeping her eyes glued shut. He, however, had other ideas for the morning, and did he not seem to be willing to give her just a few more moments of needed sleep. Lord only knew she had gotten so little the night before. He knew her so well, better than ever herself at times, unfortunately. She didn't doubt he'd use that to his advantage now. He laughed, and she knew he took this at a silent challenge. "Bella, won't you open your eyes for me?" he breathed, and she almost caved with just that. He was a rotten cheater; he knew exactly how much that tone of voice affected her, and imagining how adorable the pout on his full lips would look if she would just peek a bit did not help the matter at all._

_"C'mon, my lovely Sleeping Beauty. Open your eyes. Do I need to wake you with a kiss, perhaps?" he whispered playfully, his body now fully covering hers through the blanket, sending shivers up and down her spine._

_She inwardly begged him not to kiss her. If he did, she knew immediately that he would win this little competition of theirs - it wouldn't be the first time, either._

_He did not answer her silent pleas, however, and slowly leaned down to press his lip against hers. She did her best not to respond, and at first she succeeded. When she didn't think about how good his lips felt against hers and how perfectly they fit together, it was surprisingly a lot easier than usual, and she focused on keeping her thoughts on unimportant things - like what she was having for breakfast and what he had planned for her today. She knew, however, something was off when he pulled back, though. Was he really giving up that easy?_

_She knew not even seconds later how right she was.  
He would never make it that easy for her, a fact she could not be bothered by, no matter how much she tried. She loved it about him, as much as she hated to admit it, and as much as it still never ceased to annoy her. His lips hunted down her jaw, finally finding the skin of her neck. She couldn't help it - she gasped when he found that place only he knew existed, the sensitive skin that never failed to drive her wild, and he knew it. He knew too well, and he certainly didn't play fair; he pulled away, giving her that smirk of his, the one that got the blood boiling in her veins in many more ways than one._

_"Cheater," she accused quietly, glaring up at him through her newly opened eyes._

_Amusement flickered in his green eyes, before he leaned closer to her, sending her pulse racing. "All's fair in love and war, sweetheart," he murmured, still smirking as he leaned down to place a sweet kiss to her lips, and then the top of her head. "Happy Anniversary, by the way."_

The loud, piercing beeping of her alarm clock startled her awake, and she gasped, shaking her head in disbelief. Had she just dreamed she was married to Edward? She bit on her lip, trying to forget about it. It had to be normal. Yesterday's confusion was just messing with her head. Looking quickly around the room, she double checked to make sure she wasn't in the fluffy, comfortable looking white bed she had dreamed about, and that she was alone - it had just seemed so _real._

Accepting the conclusion she had come up with because she simply could not accept any other, she slowly rose to her feet, shaking her head once more as she scrambled to get dressed.

* * *

School was normal. Nothing out of the ordinary at all, much to her relief. Emmett and Alice were quick to pester her about the day before - when she had kissed Edward and then been too confused and flustered to say goodbye to her friends. It was not fair that they all lived in the same house.

She gave them the details, but purposely kept out anything about the kiss or what came after. She told them about every little detail of Edward's shocked expression (wondering for a moment if it was bad she had memorized every little detail in the first place), and they seemed happy to hear that. It wasn't long before the bell rang, and they headed off to their first classes. Emmett mentioned something about his new infatuation in passing, apparently a gorgeous blonde.

Nothing new. She just wished that she could say the same about herself, and that she could give the details about all of her life - but she couldn't. Not because she was afraid of reactions, really, but because she wasn't even sure of it herself.

Biology came along much too soon and she had to force herself into the classroom. _He_ was going to be there, and how she could face him after both the day before and her little dream fantasy - which she was still greatly disgruntled about - she honestly didn't know.

She scrambled to her usual seat beside him, refusing to meet his gaze that she knew was now boring into the side of her head. The teacher was gibing a mundane lecture, mostly because it was rather simple material - even if some of the students in front of her seemed utterly confused. Still, she grabbed a pen and began scribbling down notes in order to distract herself from the green-eyed, infuriating beautify beside her. How long could she ignore him?

Obviously not very long.

She gazed down at the piece of paper shoved onto her notebook. At first she simply marveled at the perfectly neat script, before she sighed, admitting defeat and actually reading the note.

_Ouch, Ice Queen. Way to wound my ego. I kiss you, ask you out, and you completely ignore me._

She bit back a snort, reminding herself where she was, before scribbling down a hasty response.

_Your ego needs some wounding, Hotshot. _

He was grinning as he read it, not seeming to mind how embarrassingly messy her scrawl was compared to his flawless penmanship as he wrote her a response and passed it to her.

_You've done plenty of that, trust me. Regardless, as per our deal, you agreed to go out to dinner with me. I am simply asking to see if you are alright with Friday night - I can't drive, but I've got it figured out._

She didn't doubt it. If he sent a limo just to rub it in her face that he could, she would kill him, and she scowled just at the thought. Biting her lip, she sighed quietly before writing her own reply down.

_I can't say no, can I? A promise is a promise. I'll see you Friday, I guess, Masen._

His grin grew tenfold.

_Excellent. By the way, Mr. BoreYou has been asking you a question. I would think fast, Isabella._

Her head snapped up immediately, trying to pretend that she had been taking notes and was simply very distracted - which she was. Just not by _educational_ notes.

"Miss Swan?" What was the question? How had she completely missed it?

"I…" She stuttered and stumbled a bit, wracking her brain, trying to remember what he had asked, but she couldn't. How did he have this affect on her? Did he realize how absolutely distracting he was?

When he turned to Edward, though, obviously accepting that she didn't have an answer for him, he answered automatically, a smug smile beginning to tug on his lips. When the teacher had turned around again on his heal, she scribbled him a furious note and passed it to him.

_I hate it when you do that. _

He smirked before writing her a quick reply, more cautious this time around.

_I know, that's half the fun. So, Friday at seven sound about right?_

She sighed. He was relentless.

_Seven sounds just fine. _

She was about to pass it to him, when something occurred to her. Asking on paper was much easier than actually verbally questioning him about it, wasn't it?

_What does this make us?_ she added quickly, biting her lip before she swiped it onto his notebook, looking away. He seemed to hesitate a bit more, before he passed the note back to her, and she had to smile as she looked down at the words now in front of her.

_For now, just consider us rivals with benefits. You know, like "friends with benefits", but only better. See you Friday night, Swan._

* * *

A/N: I know, this chapter was short, but I warned you. :) I, for one, and am very happy with it. Before you throw stones and demand to know why - when it seemed like a filler - I'll tell you.

It's progression. It's really needed. It's give you insight on the kind of relationship Edward and Bella have, and how slowly, they're coming to terms and accepting their feelings, while they still haven't changed much at all. It's what shows that their relationship is unique and that sense of ../cough :P "anything you can do, I can do better", rival, one-up mentality is always going to be there, somewhat. xD It's what is honestly making me fall in love with the story myself...but I already have, so a bit too late!

:) Psh. For those of you who have said that their relationship is fun to read about, try writing. And thanks for all the support, the reviews, and the compliments and good pacing and originality. SO, hopefully, I continue to do that for you guys, you continue reviewing, and all of that!

ANDDD. :P Next chapter you get Edward and Bella's "first date". Promise you will be surprised. ;)

You can try to guess what Edward does, but I SWEAR you will not get it right. If you guess right, I will give you a quote from the next chapter. :) C'mon, I dare you. Heehee.

Anyways. Review, my loves, review!

Your (Not) Favorite Author,

Nicky


	11. Perfect Nights Bring Crappy Mornings

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. :)

A/N: Yay, ANOTHER quick update. And this one is pretty long. Not the longest, but still pretty long! And, hey, it's not length that matters. :P This is still easily one of my favorite chapters, 'dunno about you, though. I was originally going to do this from Edward's point of view, but decided not to. I think it's a lot better like this, actually. Anyway, yes, Edward and Bella's first date, with an added twist, just like I promised. ;)

Thanks for the reviews. Read on, hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing!

* * *

How long had she been staring at the mirror at her reflection, honestly? How long had she been nitpicking at every single aspect of her appearance, and comparing it to his? How far into this had she started imagining him next to her, making her even more disgruntled? Beside her was the gorgeous beauty that seemed to be haunting her more and more lately. In the reflection - the one that made her question her sanity - he smirked at her, leering, challenging her. With a sigh, she went back to trying to primp herself, wondering what she was even supposed to wear.

He hadn't given her a single clue as to what they were doing. He said that he would be providing dinner, as he originally stated, but nothing else, giving her no inclination on what she was supposed to wear. If they were going to an old diner, it was just a little bit different than some fancy restaurant, but still, she decided to play it safe. She wore one of the only skirts she owned, a simple denim number coupled with one of her favorite blue baby dolls - one of her best shirts, if she was being honest. She hadn't bought it on her own, of course, it had been all Alice.

Alice had called somewhere along the line, instructing her wear exactly the outfit she had picked out, and seemed quite surprised she had been able to dress herself, as if she hadn't been doing it for seventeen years already. Either way, it was all just a way to count the time as the seconds ticked by on the clock, seeming to be in time with her own heartbeats. How long was it before he came? She checked the clock, shaking her head.

When did she start caring? When did she realize that she wanted to go on this date, if not for him, then for herself? She wanted to figure things out. She had always known exactly how she felt about him, but now she wondered if she had been just a tad off. The same irritation still coursed through her whenever he was near her, just because she _knew_ he was going to do something that set her off - and so did he - but it was different, now, something she didn't understand. She didn't hate him, not like she thought she did. The resentment just wasn't the same. The boy with the auburn hair and the beautiful green eyes was still, like just before, a constant in her life, but somehow it had shifted. Somehow it was different, and she wanted to understand it, to realize why it had changed.

She felt she already knew. Maybe this was what people called denial - she wouldn't know. She had never really gone through this before, if she was being perfectly honest.

The gentle rap on her front door alerted her that her date had arrived, and she had to smile despite herself. Taking a deep breath, she slowly rose to her feet from where she had, somewhere along the line, taken a seat on the living room couch, walking slowly to the door. Pulling it open, she tried not to be surprised when she saw him standing there - because this was obviously a first, for the both of them, something new and very different. He was grinning, though, one side of his lips pulled up just a but more than the other, and she was comforted. Some things would never changed, and she could revel in those small little details. "Hello," he greeted her, and he smiled; she couldn't help but return it, even if she felt that she shouldn't.

"Hey," she replied simply, and then slowly, hesitantly - afraid of what she might see - she peeked past him, trying to find how he had gotten here. He grinned at her from where he leaned against his crutches on her front porch as she looked out at Emmett's giant jeep. He didn't.

"Emmett agreed to escort us tonight," he explained, unashamed. He shrugged, his grin turning smug. "He did get a lot out of our bargain, though, don't be worried. He is being paid graciously." He _did._

She sighed, taking in a deep breath and trying not to let this bother her. The fact that Emmett definitely knew where they were going, though, and had not told her - Alice, too, probably - came to mind, and she had to let out another abrupt wave of anger. "Fine," she breathed, and she rolled her eyes at how his grin did not waver at all, only grew, obviously amused by her aggravation. If his smirk wasn't a good sign, then the enjoyment in his sparkling green eyes was certainly enough. She let him hobble out to the car, biting her lip as he struggled a bit to get in, before sliding in herself.

She carefully avoided Emmett's gaze in the mirror, keeping her eyes downcast, while both of the boys laughed, obviously finding something funny with her embarrassment. Her cheeks blushed a deep pink, and Emmett shook his head before starting the jeep with a loud roar from the engine. "Hey, Bells, I'm just the driver. I don't know anything, but you're going to have to tell me later, anyway." He had a point. "You know the little pixie is going to want all of the details." He chuckled, and then began driving, to where they were going she still didn't know.

It all seemed so unimportant when she felt Edward's hand lazily trailing up and down her arm. New was no longer the word for this. Different didn't begin to cover it.

Though, neither did unpleasant. That was the last word she could apply to this situation.

* * *

"Where are we?" she questioned as they stepped out of the car, ignoring Emmett's wink - he hadn't talked much, and she had the gut feeling that Edward had specifically told him not to. Whatever Emmett was getting out of this, it was definitely something big, and she'd have to ask him about it later. At the moment, she had more important things to focus on, like why they were currently in the middle of nowhere - Emmett had driven off the beaten path a long time ago - and what was in the large basket Edward was now holding.

"My little haven," he answered with a grin, and she did not question as he handed her the basket, she simply followed after him as he angled himself in whatever direction … wherever he was taking her was. He made a quiet humming noise for a moment, before nodding to himself. They walked - well, she did, he hobbled - for a few moments longer, straying off the trail set up for hikers, until she saw it.

She knew immediately when they were there, though she knew she probably shouldn't. It was simple, something purely natural, something that had been formed hundreds of years ago by nature rather than man, but all the same, it was gorgeous. As Edward said, it was a haven, unbothered by the thick forestry nearby, nor by the small town very close to it. It was a simple, small meadow, and right there was a small pond. She could hear the quiet bubble of the water, she could hear the sounds of nature close by. It was something special, and she wondered how he found it, how he had stumbled upon it, why he would ever be near here. How much did she honestly know about Edward? How much did she want to know that she didn't?

She had gone all of these years hating him, and yet, did she really have any right to hate him? From the very beginning he had always been trying to get her to listen to him. It hadn't been his fault, rather hers in the beginning. She had always been the instigator in their relationship, always been the one who kept the hatred flowing and the rivalry going on. She shook her head now at this thought, focusing again on the beautiful flowers that grew here, on the small, clear pond, on the sky, slowly beginning to darken, the sun setting.

"Welcome to my meadow." She turned, a bit surprised, biting down on her bottom lip. His voice was serene, and so were his features, a gentle smile on his lips now, something she had never truly seen. She took a minute to breathe, before regaining herself, fighting to put an easy grin on her lips.

"A picnic at night?"

"Under the stars," he agreed, nodding, and mimicking her grin, but his voice wasn't more than a whisper. Somehow, she had a feeling that tonight would be very different than any other moment she spent with him, that this might just change things. At this moment, though, she couldn't quite get herself to care.

--

"I can't believe you cook!" she laughed, rolling her eyes as she fell back onto the grass, now looking up at the stars. They had watched the sunset, and for a while, things had been a bit awkward, something to be expected. It hadn't been long, though, until he had found some way to tease her, and from there, things were natural. It was almost too simple how easily they fell into casual conversation. Though, this time, the teasing, the verbal sparring … it just didn't seem unpleasant to her. It wasn't. It was different, something completely new. She wondered for a moment if the setting was messing with their heads.

"I don't," he argued, chuckling quietly, looking at her from his spot on the grass, his legs sprawled out in front of him - it was really the only way he could sit, at this point. "Tonight was a one time thing, Bella, don't get your hopes up." She laughed with him for a moment, before she realized something, something that made her stop dead in her tracks, and she stared at him, bewildered. "What?" he questioned, cocking his head to the side in confusion.

"You called me _Bella,"_ she pointed out, grinning wide. He laughed at that, shrugging simply, but he still managed to loom a bit sheepish, as much as he might try to hide it. She smiled at that, leaning back down on the grass, letting her eyes slowly flutter closed.

"I guess I did," he mused, and the corners of her mouth curled up into a grin, her eyes still closed as the listened to the quiet sounds of the nightlife out in the meadow. Edward's meadow. Their meadow, now, she supposed. She wondered if anyone had ever been shown this place before.

"What time did you tell Emmett to pick us up?" she asked quietly. "Does he knew where we are?"

"I didn't give him a time, I just said I would call him. He doesn't know the exact location, just where the trail is, so we'll have to walk a bit in the dark." She shrugged simply, hoping he would notice it, and slowly her eyes opened back up. She turned to look at him, unable to keep the smile from reappearing on her lips. Everything had been so natural, very contrary to what she had assumed it would be like.

"This had been nice," she murmured, and he smiled in return. It was the first time that she had looked at him and seen him as even the least bit vulnerable. His face flickered in the candles they half both lit and the faint glow of the moonlight as he hesitantly reaching for her hand, as if fearing rejection. She couldn't deny him, though, nor did she want to she realized, and she let her hand be captured by his. His hand was soft and warm, inviting, and she entwined her fingers with his, giving him an encouraging smile. She wasn't exactly sure what this was, but she was all in. Whatever it was, she'd eventually figure it out.

A look up at the sky told her everything was changing. He had been something constant in her life, like the moon every night, rising when the sun finally set. He was nothing like the stars in the way they flickered and constantly died out, fell and sometimes refused to sparkle - even when she did not want him to be, he was always there, and with a smile, she realized he would always be there. In some way, he had always been a part of her life, and now it might just be a different part, but still all the same. She realized, then, he was just like the stars. While there was always the fear that they would fade out, they were always there, just sometimes invisible - always shifting, always changing, but constant. Always there, always the same, just in a slightly different place.

She grinned, turning to him, her hand still entwined. "You know, for an arrogant pain in the ass, you're not so bad, Masen."

He smirked, and hesitated another moment, before leaning forward. Their lips met in a kiss so intense it seemed like, in that moment, nothing was there. The bright stars still shimmered and danced above them, just as his eyes did, and their lips reacquainted with each other. His lips were soft and gentle, almost nervous as his hands slowly came to her hair, and she responded by bringing her own to his, entangling in the reddish brown hair that had fascinated her from the beginning. So soft.

Even through all the confusion, it was every bit the same. The smirk on his lips as he pulled away was smug, but seemed just a bit softer now; she realized it had not changed at all, it was just in a slightly different perspective. "Not so bad yourself, Swan. Not so bad yourself."

* * *

The sounds of the morning awoke her, the bright light nearly blinding her as she slowly blinked open her eyes, dazed and disoriented. Where was she? This was most definitely not her bedroom. Her head was resting on something hard, her hand entangled in something - looking down, she realized it was someone else's hand. It took her a moment to break through the haze and register the boy next to her, before she sat up quickly, gasping.

Beautiful flowers, a shallow, small pond, the chirping birds and the smell of nature -

"Edward!" she screamed, shaking his arm gently so she would not hurt any injuries, but all the same, desperate. "Edward!" she hissed again, watching as his eyes opened.

"Hmmm?" he questioned drowsily, confused, and she rolled her eyes. He slowly seemed to come to the same conclusion she had, but a bit quicker. He gasped, his eyes wide. "We…slept here."

She sighed in frustration, nodding with one jerky bob. "Thank you, Sherlock. We are in _so_ much trouble."

* * *

A/N: Hahaha, Edward and Bella are in trouble. :P And, it looks like things are blooming, huh? Mostly why I like this chapter. By the way, some of you got bits and pieces of what Edward did right. I tried to make it seem like it would be really hard to guess so you'd think big, when it was pretty simple. xD Haha, I'm sneaky, aren't I? That's called reverse physcology.

And, what did you think of their first date? Was it what you expected? Better, worse? C'mon, I need some feedback, so I have future reference! And, someone who mentioned "when Edward and Bella 'get together', will their rivalry end?" I just have to say, no. :P It will not, it might just get a little bit healthier, you know? But they're not going to change so much, as this chapter tried to explain.

Someone asked how long this story is going to be...I honestly don't know. Right now, I think it has a long way to go, and a whole lot of things that needed to be brushed on and added. What do you guys think? ;)

Anyway, hope you liked it. Review, review, review!

:) Please?

With Love,

Nicky xo


	12. I Love You' Is Universal

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. :)

A/N: Anndd, this chapter was SUCH a pain in the ass. :PPP It took everything I had to finally get this written, let me tell you. I'm frying myself, but I knew that I had to get this out here, and so here it is. I did my absolute best, and here's what you guys get as a result of me working to get this out for you.

I'm amazing, right? ;) Hah. No. Notreally.

So, if I say I hate this chapter, will you throw things at me?

Ihatethischapter.

You might disagree, who knows?

Read on. xD

* * *

The ride home was honestly one of the longest car rides she had ever been on. Emmett seemed to pick up on the moods of those who stepped in the car, and he hadn't said anything on the whole ride home. It could also mean that Edward was in just as much trouble as she felt she was going to be in, and that was something she was not looking forward to when she got home.

Charlie had always been a bit lenient with her, but then again, nothing like this had ever truly happened. He spoke often about how he was lucky to have her, and she supposed she was a bit of a model daughter. She cooked, she cleaned, and she did her schoolwork. Most importantly, though, there had never been boy issues.

Nothing like this had ever happened, but the fact remained that nothing at all had happened anyway. How she would explain the fact that they had fallen asleep and not - well, done anything, was beyond her. Charlie was easy-going most of the time when it came to her decisions, but trying to make him understand this was going to be a lot harder.

"Do you want me to come in with you, Isabella?" Edward questioned her quietly as she stepped out of the car, ready to face the hell that was waiting for her in the house. "I could help explain -"

She turned to him, simply shaking her head, and managing a small smile. "No, it's alright. I've got it from here. Thanks, though." Emmett gave her a half-hearted grin, a little wave, which she would have found humorous had it not been for the situation, and slowly drove away from the house. She watched them go, before turning and making her way into the house, hoping with everything in her that Charlie had not been here the night before.

"Bells?" his voice called from the living room, and she sighed as she realized that he sounded concerned as he made his way into the front room. She stood still, because facing this head on was the best way to deal with it, from experience with Charlie.

His eyes were appraising when he finally reached her, as if looking for invisible scratches or bruises, anything that would amount to her not coming home the night before. He seemed to realize there was nothing wrong with her, and then his eyes narrowed dangerously, his gaze falling to her face again. "Would you like to explain yourself?" he asked quietly, and she knew that the momentary concern had faded, much to her dismay.

She had a feeling that he had already called the Cullen household, and if she lied and said she had hung out with Alice, he would already know that she was lying. She inwardly cursed the fact that Forks was so small and everyone knew everyone - he could have easily asked everyone in town if they had seen her, though she seriously doubted he had gone that far. This _was_ still Charlie, after all.

"I was out with a friend, Dad," she sighed reluctantly, but knew that he would not believe her if she told the whole truth. "His name is Edward and it wasn't anything like you were probably thinking. We were just talking, and then we fell asleep. I meant to come home last night."

She sighed as Charlie rose an eyebrow in disbelief, just as she expected. It was not a very believable story, if she was being honest, though it was definitely the truth - it was just how she was going to get Charlie to understand this that was going to be difficult.

"I know it doesn't sound likely, but it's true," she mumbled, shaking her head. "We didn't do anything at all, Dad. I swear."

Charlie shook his head, and that was when she realized that she was going to be doing a whole lot of explaining, and it would probably not even amount to anything. Charlie might be lenient at times, but he wasn't stupid.

Only a stupid person would believe her story. She smiled, shaking her head. Not many others besides Edward had first dates in meadows, and some things she just didn't want to share with Charlie.

* * *

She was sulking. She knew it was childish, but it didn't stop her from doing it, because after all, it was hardly fair she was grounded until further notice. She had honestly never seen Charlie so angry, but as she rose her voice trying to explain things, his face had turned three different shades of red, to the point where he looked like he would surely explode.

Their argument ended with Charlie screaming that she was not allowed anywhere besides school and her obligations - the play that she had nearly forgotten about, in all honesty, despite having one of the lead rolls - and home. He also stated quite bluntly that he did not want her hanging out with that 'Edwin kid', and she had not had the heart to correct him at the time. Either way, the message was quite clear, written in black and white.

The cell phone on her nightstand rang again, shrill and demanding, and she rolled her eyes in aggravation. She knew it was Alice, and in all honesty, she did not want to explain all of this to her - and she would definitely want an explanation.

With a sigh of resignation, though, she reached for the phone, flipping it open and setting it against her hear. "Hello?" As soon as she had spoken, it seemed, Alice began spitting out a million things at once, much too fast for her to begin to understand.

"God, Bells, why didn't you call me?" she demanded, and before she could open her mouth, she continued, scoffing quietly into the phone. "Carlisle and Esme had a fit when Edward came home! Esme was just happy he was alive, I swear, they were ready to get a SWAT team, or something! I told them he was with you, and not to worry. Edward came home, and after getting his ear chewed off he locked himself in his room. Emmett's been trying to get something out of him, but he won't crack, so I needed to call you!"

She took a deep breath. "Tell me _everything_, Bella, and if you leave something out I'll find out."

She sighed, shaking her head and groaning, falling back onto her bed with another eye roll. "There's honestly not much to tell, Alice. He took me to this beautiful meadow, and we had a picnic. We talked for a long time, watched the stars, and then we fell asleep. That's honestly it. It's not what anyone is thinking."

There was silence on the other line, and then Alice sighed. She grinned at her friend's disappointment, knowing exactly what her friend was thinking. "Well, that's boring. I should have known. I thought you…well, did something." Another sigh.

"Yeah, but Charlie didn't believe me," she grumbled, rolling her eyes. "I'm grounded until further notice."

Alice was obviously trying to bite back a giggle - how she found that humorous, though, she honestly did not understand. She grumbled, and then listened to the whispering in the background, raising an eyebrow in confusion as she wondered who Alice was talking to, but she instantly knew.

"Isabella?" Edward's voice spoke into the phone, deep and velvet. She smiled despite herself, biting down on her lip.

"Hey, Edward."

He chuckled quietly, and she listened to the ruffling noises in the background, and then the high call of Alice, telling him to find her when he was done talking to her. He shouted something she couldn't hear, before speaking into the phone again. "How much trouble did you get in?" he questioned, and she had a feeling that he was pursing his lips to keep himself from laughing - she rolled her eyes, imagining his smirk from the other side of the phone.

"Heaps," she mumbled, sighing in exasperation as she sat up in the bed, crossing her legs. "Charlie didn't believe my story, but I kind of guessed he wouldn't." Edward laughed on the other line, and she bit her lip, trying not to lash out on him for laughing at her.

"Carlisle was a bit skeptical, too," he murmured, and she knew he was smirking. "In all honesty, I doubt any self respecting parent would believe our story. Falling asleep in a meadow, it all sounds very…"

"Fairy tale like?" she finished for him, grinning wide. It did sound like some act straight out of a movie, something that didn't normally happen in real life. Not many people besides Edward had places like he did, places that were quiet and out of the way. When he had wished that he could take her out to dinner, she had expected a restaurant, and she had a feeling that he had known that, too.

"Exactly," he laughed, and she bit on her lip, wondering how much things had changed between them just over the duration of a few days. Then again, maybe nothing had changed at all. "Hey, Swan, if I'm not mistaken, I think you rather liked last night. If I may be so bold, it might have been worth it."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. He was still the same Edward, and she was still the same Bella. Even if their relationship shifted, they were still very much the same. "Yeah, well, you liked it too, Masen. You're the one who asked me out, remember?" He chuckled on the other line, and she tried to imagine him. One side of his mouth was probably pulled up into his infamous crooked smirk, smug and confident, but absolutely beautiful.

"Touche," he murmured, and she smirked at the small victory. "I think we should do it again sometime. Then again, it's not up to me - I only had three wishes, after all."

She groaned inwardly at the reminder and the smile he heard in her voice. She really wished everyone would forget the stupid genie costume, because obviously no one involved had. "I can't. Charlie grounded me."

She was certain he was smirking by now. "I'm very disappointed in you, Isabella. Are you truly not that creative?" he questioned, and she sighed, but couldn't help the little hopeful spark at his words - obviously, he wanted there to be a next time, something even she wasn't too sure about. Did she want to go out with him again?

All she knew was that the night before was truly one of the best of her life, and she couldn't deny that. She was finally seeing Edward Masen in an entirely different light.

"Either way, I will see you in school." She raised an eyebrow at the tone of his voice, and the way he truly sounded as if he was going to burst out into laughter. "Did you hear about my replacement?"

"Replacement?" she repeated, wondering what he was talking about.

"For Romeo and Juliet. Apparently, I'm unfit for the part with all of my injuries, and so they picked someone new."

She sighed, having guessed this would happen. "Who's the fill in?"

"Mike Newton." He laughed out loud, then, obviously having been keeping it in for quite a while. "He's hardly Romeo material." She had to agree with that, grinning wide at the teasing tone of his voice, and how it seemed so much easier to speak to him now - nothing had changed, but at the same time, everything had.

"Are you serious?"

"Unfortunately, yes," he chuckled, and she fell back on the bed, smiling to herself.

Somehow, she had a feeling things between her and Edward would be much smoother now.

They transitioned into easy conversation, the teasing and verbal sparring ever present, just as it always was. She wasn't sure how long they spoke on the phone, but it was easily more than an hour. They didn't seem to need a subject, easily falling from one to another, laughing constantly. It wasn't something she had ever expected, but something she loved all the same. If this was what her relationship with Edward was going to be like, then she figured it would be much easier than she expected.

Until he had to go and mess anything up.

She heard Alice in the background, yelling for him to have a chance to talk to her. She sighed as he mentioned something about having to give the phone over, and then he whispered. It was so quiet at first she was certain she had heard it wrong, but she knew she couldn't be. His voice was just as velvet, smooth, and melodious as always, and those words he spoke were ones she had never expected to hear, "L'amo, Isabella. Arrivederci, bella."

Did he honestly think that in another language she would not comprehend what it meant? Because even in Italian, it meant exactly the same thing.

_I love you, Isabella. Goodbye, beautiful._

"Bella? Bella? Bella, are you there?"

Despite her best friend's voice on the other line, she snapped the phone shut, letting her eyes flutter close.

This is exactly what she did not want to happen.

Because inside, she knew she had fallen for Edward Masen, something she had promised herself she would never do.

* * *

A/N: Okay.

First off, I am really sorry if you felt like I rushed this chapter. :P You don't know how impossibly hard this chapter was to write, and how much writer's block I went through, but I felt like this was the way this chapter should go. Edward and Bella have been working up to the last line of this chapter for a long time. :) And, plus, there is still plenty of stuff left.

Plus, don't tell me you don't like the mental image of Mike playing Romeo. And then Edward's reaction to Mike playing Romeo. :PP

Fun. :)

Anyway, this chapter really is necessary, as much as it is definitely not my favorite.

Review, please. I hope I didn't disappoint TOO much. ;)

You're still all cullentastic.

And I love you.

XO,

Nicky


	13. Curtain Calls and Dramatic Scene Changes

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. :)

A/N: Woohoo! C'mon, guys, shout with me, because my writer's block for this story is offically G-O-N-E. Gone. Isn't that exciting? :P Well, it is for me, and no, it doesn't mean less updating for the other stories.

Well...maybe Unread Messages. Major blockage there, I admit it. But I promise it'll only be short term, if I can help it. I just don't want to force it and give you guys crap, so anyone who's reading that story, well, yeah, be a little patient with me. I only have so much time to write, and then I only have so much creative ability. ;) Mmhmm.

Oh, and, you know how I got myself in the mood for this story? I listened to the song from the musical the title is based on, and I was like..."Wow, this reminds me, I had this idea for the next chapter!" And then yeah. It all just came to me. :) By the way, the song isn't directly related to this chapter at all, so you won't need to brick me for like three whole pages of nothing but lyrics.

That might not annoy you, but it irks me, so yeah. :) too much rambling. I'm just going to tell you that this chapter is amazingly important, at least to me. I think it's the big turning point, so read on! I won't stop you.

By the way, if you can't figure it out, it's from Edward's ... POV. I always have trouble finding the right words, considering this is first person. :P

* * *

It wasn't as hard as he thought it would be.

It had taken them years to get their dysfunctional relationship into a rhythm. It wasn't exactly the most flexible one, and it teetered. There were boundaries and a borderline and he didn't know exactly when he was going too far, he didn't know when he was in danger of falling off the edge, of changing things –

He was pretty sure letting her know he loved her was crossing the line, though. He was fairly sure that kissing her was, too, but that hadn't changed anything. He had expected, however, that the moment he told her, the moment he let the words slipped, everything would be altered, everything would be somehow _different_. Finally, it wouldn't feel like he was teetering on the edge of a cliff, awaiting to fall or catch his balance. Finally, he'd find some relief. He had been quite convinced that either way, for better or for worse, he'd feel like the weight was off his shoulders.

It didn't happen that way.

The earth continued to spin, time went on, the hours ticked by. The next morning at school, in Biology class, he faithfully took his seat beside her, and she gave her the half-grin she always did. That day she got more questions that he did, because he was thrown through a loop, bewildered, perplexed. Nothing was different. In fact, everything was entirely the _same._

She smirked at him, wondering what was wrong, and he had found the strength to reply that everything was just fine. Nothing was wrong, in fact, everything was right, according to his current logic. This was the way their relationship was supposed to be playing out, he had quickly reminded himself.

So he answered the next question before she could, and she gave him that adorable pout, the one that told him he was exactly on target, exactly the same as he had been for the years previous. They went back and forth the whole period, and not once did she speak a word about their phone conversation. Not once did they discuss anything even remotely close to what he expected them to.

Jabs and taunts, and lots of teasing, but that was it. The earth kept spinning, there was no tumbling. He remained exactly where he had been for years, teetering right on the edge of the cliff – though, he admitted, it felt more like he had been pushed and not quite yet recovered.

What had he been expecting, honestly?

This was the way they were supposed to be. Rivals. Perhaps just a bit friendlier, but not much, not to the extreme. He would always be the one to push her, to annoy her, to beat her, and she would always be the one to push him to do so. They would keep each other teetering, keep each other struggling, keep each other moving, but that was the extent of their relationship.

This kissing, the confession, and the date – it was all just him blowing things way out of proportion. It was her making things right, but that was it. That was the end of it. This was it, he realized. This was what it came down to, and hadn't he always known this?

Edward Masen and Isabella Swan were always going to be rivals.

Though, in the back of his head, he knew _exactly _what he had expected.

In the back of his mind, he was wishing that was the way things had turned out.

Reality wasn't going to humor him, though, and the seconds kept ticking, and the earth kept spinning. He shouldn't have expected otherwise.

* * *

"And Juliet is the ... is the…"

Oh, for the love of all things holy.

He had been watching Mike Newton fumble on his lines for hours, and he had been watching her mumble them quietly under her breath, meanwhile giving _him_ little glances. He had smiled in encouragement, or at least he hoped that's what it was, watching the disaster before him unfold. Mike Newton was no Romeo Montague, nor would he ever be.

He had volunteered to pull the curtain and help around backstage, though he wondered why he was even allowed to do this. If he could pull a rope, then couldn't he say some lines on stage? He suppose it might be the simple fact that Romeo had never walked with crutches, but there had to be someway that it could be worked around of.

After all, watching the classics being ruined by true amateurs – one _idiot_ was probably the better way to put it – had to be some kind of crime. He grinned just at the thought of it, wishing he could be the one out there, wishing he could be the Romeo, and she the Juliet. At leas then they could be lovers on the stage.

He pushed the thought away just as quickly as it came.

Then the scene changed, and when he finally glanced back at the lines they were reciting, he was a bit shaken. The performance wasn't that far away, and the casting had been far too late, according to their drama teacher. They needed to get everything set, and that meant practicing _everything – _

Why had he even signed up for this, so he could see Newton ruin the play? Had he come like he had originally planned to, to see her fumble on stage – would that still give him the same satisfaction as it would have then, when he was the one instigating it? And what was the point of helping around the stage, did he really need to waste hours at a time pulling a rope?

What was the point anymore? Why had he bothered? Why was he here, watching her speaking the words he _should_ be speaking to him? Why was he watching as she went through her acts? Why did he smile every time her brown eyes lit up the way they always did when she spoke her line. Passion, he soon realized. He smiled at the thought, because for a moment, he was reminded of the glint in her eyes when she had looked at him in the meadow, when everything had been altered by candlelight and flowers, when they had been away from reality for just a short –

But then he was kissing her, and everything changed. His lips were descending onto hers, his blond hair full of some gel product, his eyes wide with excitement that didn't fit the part. He was not Romeo. He was no Romeo. He didn't _deserve_ to kiss her. She was better than that. She was so much better than that –

Her eyes were closed, and he was kneeling, he was ready. His lips were puckered. He was going to do it, he was going to kiss her. He wasn't _allowed _to kiss her. Newton could not kiss Isabella.

Newton could not kiss _his _Isabella.

In a burst of sudden adrenaline, he pulled.

His hand had been resting on the rope, one of his only jobs backstage – one of the only ones the drama teacher felt he could handle in his 'condition'. He watched with obvious satisfaction as the curtain fell right where he wanted it to, right where it should – right on top of them.

There was a squeal, and he smiled, recognizing it immediately as hers. The curtain moved and there was there were a few mumbled words. The first body part to make its way out of the red curtain was Newton's leg, then her arm, then his, and finally, they had shimmied their way out of the heavy curtain – and her eyes zeroed in on him, narrowing in anger.

He had the sudden urge to laugh, but he held it in, coughing quietly. There was absolutely no way he was going to explain this to her, because he couldn't even explain it to herself. The drama teacher called for order, considering there were many people laughing, but he, on the hand, had enough. Grabbing his crutches, he slowly began his escape.

Or he would have, if she had not grabbed him by the shoulder and stood in front of him, blocking his path to the parking lot.

"What the hell was _that?" _she seethed, her teeth clenched in her aggravation. She rolled her eyes, nodding her head towards the curtain, which was still on the ground.

"That was me losing control of the rope. Sorry, my hand slipped," he mumbled simply, and tried to make his way past her before this got too heated – before he became too heated. She wasn't having it, spreading her arms out wide, and he fought the urge to laugh again.

As if that was stopping him.

Stepping to the side, he limped his way towards the door, but not before he heard her outburst, her scream of her frustration.

"Why do you always have to ruin everything for me? You always screwed things up, Edward! You always had to bring me down and mess things up, and be a general ass! I didn't _ask you_ to hang around me, you know. And just when I thought you were away from me for good, you move here, and suddenly, suddenly everything's out of control and crazy again!" she yelled, glaring at him, and moisture had formed in her eyes in her anger as she spat out her accusation.

"You mess _everything_ up," she finished, crossing her arms over her chest and daring him to turn around, daring him to spit something back.

He wouldn't have, he really wouldn't have, but her words did something to him, something he had been trying to squash for the entire day.

"Look," he started, turning as quickly as he could and narrowing his eyes, shaking his head in near disbelief. "I'm not the one who started it, alright? I've never hated you, Swan, and you've always twisted it and made it so damn difficult. You wondered why I followed you, why I was always there, why I was always _messing things up_," he snarled, shaking his head, but her eyes were on him, as if she was waiting for the answer to that. As if she didn't already know, as if the past weeks hadn't happened at all –

"You're the closest thing I ever had to a friend, Isabella. I pushed you and I pushed myself, and it worked, alright? It worked! Hell, it didn't matter what it was, because when I kept it going, when I pissed you off, when I beat you, it felt like something was constant in my life, like I had something to hang on to, because I've never had that."

He shook his head, watching her expression change and soften, until it was ice, frozen, confused, surprised. He grinned, but there was no humor. "My whole life I've been slipping and looking for something to keep me hanging, and you were the person who did that. You know the day I moved in was the first day I spent with a foster family." He looked away, shrugging his shoulders. "Everyone else seemed to be interested in me in kindergarten, and it made me happy, like someone cared…like someone was still there, or something." He rolled his eyes, before sighing. "Except for one little girl, of course. One little girl who hated my guts."

And even through the tears she could see the smile growing on her face, the smile that she couldn't hold back – and there was a matching one on his, too, but it quickly dropped.

"And she seemed so desperate to beat me at something, so desperate to prove she was better, stronger, faster, smarter – so I vowed to myself. I vowed that from that day on I would be better, stronger, faster, smarter than that little girl, and that's all it was for a while."

Her eyes were wide, as if she hadn't known, as if she waiting anxiously, and he smirked – but it just didn't seem to reach him. Inside, he was explaining it all to himself, too.

"But then I grew up with that little girl, and I watched her grow, and I watched her strengthen, and I watched her learn..and that little girl became someone so amazing, something far beyond what I had first thought she would be. That little girl was the constant in my life, like the moon, or the sun. I had to try just a little bit harder to beat her, I had to push myself just a little bit farther. And it worked."

He sighed, looking away, and slowly turning around again.

"It was easy, but then the little girl moved away, and then things changed. When I saw the little girl again, she was a beautiful, intellectual woman, and she became the constant again. Everything shifted, everything was the same, but it was different, it was all different. I pushed her and she pushed me, and it worked for a while. For a while, everything seemed the same."

He snorted, and slowly he began limping to the parking lot, barely aware that she was behind him.

"Then I fell in love with the little – the _woman_. Isabella, the gorgeous woman she had become, but so much like the little girl. I fell in love with her, and everything was thrown off balance. I expected it to teeter one way or the other, but it didn't, and that's because it never was supposed to. I'm supposed to be the instigator in that girl's life, I'm supposed to watch her grow, to look but never touch, to taunt but never compliment."

She made a noise, like she wanted to speak, but he turned his head, one finger pressed to his lips.

"Just think about it, Princess. For once in your life, think about someone besides yourself, and maybe everything with be just a little bit clearer. I tried so many times to try and get you realize that I don't hate you – I threw you so many damn clues at you, and I'm done trying. I've figured it out."

He took one last look at her before beginning to move again, muttering a simple, "took me long enough," under his breath, and not turning to see the shocked expression on her face, not needing to see anything there to know exactly what she was thinking, exactly how she looked – he didn't need to look into her doe eyes, especially not now.

End scene.

The world kept spinning and the seconds kept ticking, but it everything seemed to stop as he walked out the door.

* * *

A/N: I love this chapter, I'm sorry. Edward's speech is so ... I don't know, emotional for me. :) It might just be because I'm the one who wrote it, but you know.

So, I guess Edward fell off the cliff, finally, eh? I think it was good. I got a giggle out of my friend for the whole curtain dropping thing, and I did on the re-read, just because ... well, the mental image is just so funny. Imagine it, eager Mike, leaning down, FINALLY getting the change to kiss Bella, the absolute happiest moment of his life -

Cue Edward. Drop the curtains. Moment CRUSHED, buddy. :) I'm so cruel to poor Mike, aren't I?

Ehh. He's a fun character to pick on.

Either way, feedback on this chapter would be great.

Ending the scene with dramatically as always,

Nicky, xo


	14. Who Knew Winning Sucked So Much?

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of the characters, they belong to Stephenie Meyer.

A/N: Reallyquickupdate. :)

I'm superfantasticallyamazing like that, aren't I?

Sorry, working on some new adjectives here, because I seem to repeat the same one over and over again - according to my roomate, anyway. Go figure. But c'mon, guys. Don't tell me after reading YGL! you didn't have the urge to suddenly say "dramallamaobama", or you haven't used the term "cullentastic". I know you have. ;)

Getting to the point, thank you like always for the amazing reviews and support, I couldn't do it without you...you're all ubersupertastic.

I need to work on that. Either way, enjoy the next chapter, I'm done rambling for today. :)

* * *

She hadn't really known what she was doing, but she had known that she was confused, definitely confused, and just a bit angry – not at him, at least not anymore. No, she could only be angry at herself. After all, it wasn't his fault, not really. She was the one who had started to fall for him in the first place, and she was the one who couldn't handle it.

She knew if she was being honest with herself she was a it scared, and if she was being downright truthful then she admitted that she was terrified, terrified of change, and terrified of the word itself, the word he had spoke – Italian or not. For years their relationship had been at a stand still and a constant, something familiar and, if she was being honest still, something comfortable.

But that relationship had always been climbing, climbing, and in ways she didn't understand, it had been changing, working towards a climax. When it finally came, she didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to deal with it, because it was a plotline she didn't understand. Unlike the classic literature she was so comfortable in, Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Wuthering Heights, she didn't understand it.

There were just too many words she didn't understand, and she didn't want to look it up. She wanted to put the book down – he wouldn't write her future for her. He had always been her enemy and she had been fine with that, she had been fine with a rival. If she was still being honest, he had always pushed her, always worked her, always made her strive for the best, and he had truly shaped what she was now – in a weird, twisted way that only Edward Masen could ever pull off.

But that was all he was. For a long time, that was all he was, and there had been no other emotion besides hate. She had always loved to hate him, because he aggravated her, he pushed her, he taunted her, he humiliated her –

It wasn't right that he _loved_ her. It didn't make sense that he loved her. He just wasn't _supposed_ to love her, it went against his character, it went against everything she had thought him to be, everything she had worked him up to in her mind. The annoyance, the enemy, the rival.

And when he spoke those simple words, Italian or not, he had changed everything. Every single little feeling she had ever felt for him had been pushed to the surface, making itself known – and the only thing she had wanted to say at that moment was _I love you too. _

She didn't know how to do that, though. She didn't know how to _love_ him. She could hate him, because that was natural, that was easy.

Their relationship was supposed to be simple, and it wasn't turning out like that. Slowly and surely, the plot was changing, the characters were growing, and soon, Edward Masen wasn't the boy she had thought he was. He wasn't the boy with the soft reddish-brown hair who was sent to annoy her to death, who was sent just to make her life a living Hell –

Not anymore.

And she had done her best to try and keep things the same, treating him exactly as she usually did, expecting him to catch on and be just the same as he always was.

That had failed miserably.

She had given off trying to read the book now. It made no sense to her, it was all confusing jumble as he spoke to her, and for the first time since she had met him, she knew what kind of person Edward Masen was.

He wasn't her enemy. He was never supposed to be her enemy. She wasn't supposed to hate him – and he had never hated her. It was hard to comprehend that she had always hated him and he had always followed her because he wanted to, not to annoy her, not to be her personal hell. She had always been thinking about her, and never about him, never what he felt. It was always about her and her feelings, from the very beginning.

"_Want to play ball?" the little boy with the reddish-brown hair had asked._

"_No." _

And she had pouted. He had more attention, and she was jealous. She was always a little jealous, if she was being honest.

It was that moment of revelation in every good novel where the heroine realizes her love for the hero, where the reader slaps their forehead and thinks, _took her long enough, damn it._

But when she watched him walk away from her, everything she had wanted to say hadn't come out, only as jumbled thoughts that could never be spoken, even though she tried desperately to open her mouth.

_Please don't go._

_I don't want you to go. _

_I didn't mean to hurt you._

_I was being stupid._

_I didn't figure it out until a second ago, otherwise I would have reacted._

_I'm sorry._

_I love you, too._

_I'm scared. I'm terrified. _

_I don't know what to do anymore. _

But above of all these thoughts, his words kept repeating in her head, over and over.

"_Just think about it, Princess. For once in your life, think about someone besides yourself…"_

And when she did, everything was just a bit clearer.

Edward Masen was just a little bit clearer to her, like she had been looking at him through a fogged window, and finally she was seeing him for the first time. With a smile, she walked to her car, this thought in mind, but tucking it away. Maybe she wouldn't even have to worry about change – just like the tragic novels, the heroine was just a little bit too late.

"…_I'm done trying."_

* * *

She went to school the next morning determined. She wasn't sure what she was expecting to say, or what she even thought was going to happen, but all she knew was that she had to make things right.

She had never been nervous to go to Biology class before.

Her legs felt like Jell-O as she made her way to their table, taking a seat and setting her books down. He was there before her, but he wasn't looking at her, and even when she pulled the chair out and it squeaked against the floor he didn't look up. His head was resting on his palm and his gaze was out the window, and she sighed quietly, hoping to get his attention. He didn't as much as twitch, his body just as still as a statue.

"Edward?" she murmured in question, and she smiled as he turned his head – it fell just as quickly as it came as she realized the expression on his face wasn't the one she had been expecting at all. It was hard and distant, though his eyes were focused on hers, and never had she seen his eyes as empty, not until now – it didn't suit the brilliant green, it didn't shimmer the way it was supposed to.

"Yes?"

"I…" she started, but her eyes fell again, not able to hold his hollow gaze any longer.

"Never mind."

And out of the corner of her eye, she watched him look away, indifferent, as if it didn't matter, as if the other day hadn't happened at all, as if nothing had – only worse.

They weren't even friendly enough to be rivals anymore.

She waited desperately for the usual banter to start. If things were like normal, she would be relieved. She could run from her fears and keep the comfort; she could live with that, surely. If he wanted to go back to before, than she would be more than happy, but halfway into the lecture she realized that wasn't going to happen. When he answered the teacher's questions, he didn't glance at her – he didn't as much as look at her. His voice held no sense of challenge, of teasing. It was simple, and rather bored.

He didn't care anymore. He had stopped trying, and it twisted her stomach in a way she didn't understand.

When they were partnered together as always she glanced at him, trying to understand his mood as he took his own notes, shoving them towards her when he was done. She bit on her lip, finally getting the courage up to ask him what she had wanted to all day.

"Why are you acting like this?

Finally, he showed emotion, but hardly. His chuckle was hollow and his smirk was bittersweet, nothing like the one she was used to, not crooked or beautiful, but empty, like he was fighting to keep it there, and like it caused him physical pain to even try.

"Acting like what, Isabella?" he spat her name out like it was a dirty word that he was ashamed to speak, and she flinched before she could stop herself, biting on the inside of her cheek. "Isn't this what you wanted? You wanted to hate me, so now you can. You wanted to be enemies, so now we are. I told you, I'm done trying, and I'm not bothering anymore. You _won_. Be happy."

And then he looked away.

They didn't talk for the rest of the class. She tried again in French, getting a mumble, and then when the teacher ordered them to pair up and converse, he asked her twice what her favorite color was, how she was doing, and then about the weather.

There was no sense of competition. When it was over and the teacher wasn't watching, he looked away, pretending she didn't exist, like ha hated her, like he couldn't stand to look at her –

Like she was his enemy.

_You win. _

If that was the truth, why did she feel like she lost?

She didn't know why she was trying.

He could easily just delete the message, but she had to try, she just had to try. She had begged and begged Alice for the number and when she had finally given it to her, she had rushed to her room, locked the door, and did what she had wanted to do all day.

"Edward, it's me. It's Bella. I know you don't want to talk to me, but please just listen, just for a second," she mumbled into the phone, grabbing her pillow and bringing it tight to her chest, her hand clutching the phone as hard as she could. "You were right, okay? You were so damn right. All my life I've only been thinking about myself, thinking about something made me feel, never about others. Right from that first day of kindergarten it was all about me, and I hated you because I was jealous." She bit on her lip, wondering where to go from there, wondering if he would even get the message at all. "I know you hate me now, but I just wanted to say that I wish things hadn't worked out like this. I know, life's not fair, but…it doesn't feel right. I don't know what happened."

"But that night in the meadow, everything felt right, for the first time in a while. It felt like nothing was different, but at the same time, everything was, like we were finally in the right place. And I thought, maybe nothing has to change, maybe we can be like this forever, and I don't know what I was thinking. I was stupid and I was wrong, and … I don't know, you might not even be listening to this, but I was scared. When you told me… _that_ … I was scared. I didn't know how to react or what to do, or what to say, but I know what I should have said."

She sighed, staring blankly at the wall.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that I love you, too. I know, it's too late, and I know, you're done…and I know. It took me long enough."

And she snapped the phone closed, letting it fall to the bed, finally letting the tears she had been holding so long out, finally letting herself cry. She brought the pillow to her face, hiding it.

She hadn't won, not at all. Instead of feeling like she was soaring, instead of the sweet taste of victory, she felt like she was feeling, like she was dealing with the after effect of a punch straight to the gut, her stomach twisted and churned into knots – and instead of smelling victory, there was only the taste of her salty tears.

Just like always, she had lost, but she had a feeling that no one had truly won.

* * *

A/N: I was crying when I finished this chapter, I admit it. :P It's probably just me, because I'm away over sensitive, but I actually can relate to both sides of this story, so it makes it so much more real to me. One of my (when I say my, I mean AYCDICDB!Edward, aka competitive!Edward) Edward's favorite lines is actually in this chapter, I guess just because it's so ... I don't know, hard hitting. It makes you think. :)

I hope this chapter was emotional for you too, otherwise I'll feel like more of an idiot.

By the way, I'm one for realism, remember? Did you honestly expect Edward to welcome her with open arms and a kiss? Well, if you did, I'm sorry if I disappointed you.

Bella has some figuring out to do, and yeah, I know this chapter has a little bit of a cliff hanger at the end. ;) I'm so evil like that.

OH! And one other thing. People are so against the third person perspective, but you know what, it's my comfort zone. :) Like I said in the first chapter, I tried really hard to write this in first person, and it didn't flow, not at all. This story is supposed to be told like this, so PLEASE, PLEASE do not flame me anymore for writing it like this. I'm sorry if it's confusing or hard to read, really I am, but I can't change it now, the way it was written would make it choppy and all over the place.

So, moving right along, send me your feedback!

;) My goal, just like YGL! is 1,000 reviews. If I get that I'm going to be through the wall.

But, you know. I don't need it. I just need your thoughts! Reviews really do make me happy. And how lame does that sound?

Love Always,

Nicky


	15. Encore! The Balcony Scene, sans Newton

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Twilight, because I am not Stephenie Meyer. ):

A/N: First off, I'd like to say sorry for the slower update. Would you believe me if I say I have a life? :P If so, yes, I do have a life, and it happens to be a bit crazy at the moment. Wedding, classes, roomates and babies (no, not mine), a whole lot of stuff going on at once, which gives me little to no time to write for you guys - but good news! It's all over now, so I'll have plenty of time to give you your Nicky fix. ;)

PLUS! I'll try and get to updating the other stories soon, but I'm not promising anything. I got bit by the writer's block bug, too, and this story just happens to be the one that broke me out of it.

AND! Thank you, thank you, thank you to all the wonderful reviewers. Your support and love is amazing, and I love every single one of you. :) I've told you that before, though.

To get to the good part, I'm just going to mention that I hope this chapter is worth the small wait, aaanddd, that's about it!

* * *

Bella wasn't sure exactly how long she waited for a response from him before she gave up. She thought he would have at least listened to the message, and she truly hoped he did - even if it was too late, she needed to at least know that he knew, not for him, but for herself. She needed some closure; at least some kind of ending to the confusing novel her life had turned into. She needed something.

She waited days, but the days turned into two weeks, and there was still no response. It had gotten a bit friendlier, however; she would ask him for a pencil or for help with a question she really had no trouble with, and he always answered her. He was polite, and that was what always got her. The teasing aspect of their relationship no longer existed, and the Edward she had known was now replaced with one she did not know at all. He didn't tease her or taunt her, he did not challenge her, and he hardly looked at her if he didn't need to. For once in her life, she missed his smug smirk, the way his eyes lit up and seemed to dance when he was amused, the way he cocked his head to the side when he was confused, the feel of his full, soft lips when they moved against hers –

It didn't matter, though. It was obvious by the second week that there would be no kind of response, and that the phone call was the last of their relationship, at least in any way that she wanted it to be. She had thought she would have been able to let it go easily, she had felt that it wouldn't seem so horrible to her, but it wasn't anything like that.

Edward Masen had always seemed like an enemy to her. Before him being out of her life would have seemed like some dream come true, a wish granted. She wouldn't have grieved for his loss, not like she was now, and it surprised her how much she missed it, how much she missed him in general. The only good thing about moving to Forks years ago was getting away from one certain boy with soft bronze hair, and it had seemed like a miracle then. Nothing had seemed empty or incomplete, but that had changed, somehow. Things got mixed up somewhere along the line, or perhaps she just came to realize it. Edward was a natural part of her life, and it was almost frightening how much she missed him.

Not like an enemy, not like a rival, not like a loss of competition, she just didn't miss him the way she should anymore.

She missed him like a friend, a companion.

Like a _lover_.

She supposed the saying was right – you don't know what you have, truly, until you lose it. It wasn't until she really lost him that she realized what a big part of her life he was, a constant, and a definite, like the stars in the sky.

Without the stars, the sky just seemed a bit too hollow, a bit too empty, and a bit too plain.

Just like the sky without the stars, her life just seemed a bit too incomplete without him, and it frightened her, it confused her, and most of all, it utterly depressed her.

* * *

"Break a leg, Bella!" Alice chirped cheerily, her lips curled up into a face-splitting grin.

"Yeah, don't break a leg literally; we have enough cripples around…" Emmett was cut off less than a second later by Alice, who elbowed him sharply in the cut, throwing him a look that Bella didn't understand. Raising an eyebrow, she watched as Alice leaned up all the way on the tip of her toes to whisper something in Emmett's ear, and it was only then did she realize the meaning of Emmett's words and Alice's reaction.

Edward. Just like a string being pulled or a piñata bursting open, the feelings from weeks past hit her full force, and she bit down on her lip to try and get herself under control. It didn't matter, she had to remind herself, and it just didn't matter. It was over, she had been too late, and thinking about it _now_ was definitely not going to do anything.

"We'll be rooting for you," Alice's high soprano broke her reverie, a bright smile set back on her face, and Emmett nodded his head, still rubbing lightly where Alice had slapped him.

"Thanks," she murmured, her mind still elsewhere despite how desperately she tried to bring it back to the present, to the play she would be starring in very soon.

It had been a long time in the making. At first, it hadn't seemed like a chore; rather, it had seemed like an escape. For those few small moments when she had practiced with Edward, she had been able to forget about rivalry and hatred, the only two things that had held her back from having to deal with her feelings then. It had been so much easier to shove them away with excuses and feelings from the past, grudges she had against him, so much simpler, but completely wrong. Those practices had been the start.

She had wanted to be his Juliet this night, which was the way it should be. She should be wearing this ridiculous, itchy dress – which, honestly, did not fit the time era Romeo and Juliet should be in, nor was it even the least bit attractive – for him. That was what she had originally done it for, albeit more to prove that she could than anything else.

No, instead, she was Mike Newton's Juliet, Mike Newton who still could not get one line right without fumbling over his words, Mike Newton who had never read a piece of classic literature in his life, Mike Newton who was baby-faced and blond-haired and all wrong for Romeo.

At least for her Romeo, because in all honesty, there was only one person who she would pick for that part, the one person that was the reason she even succeeded in getting the part of Juliet right. He has pushed her – he was an amazing actor, but she had never been good at it, though she had never truly tried. Usually, she was awkward and she stuttered when she did group presentations, but it was different when she was with him. When she had practiced with him, it had seemed like she could do it, because she had to, because she had to prove it. When she did a scene with another cast member, she did it simply because he was watching and she had to get it right.

When she was doing a scene with him that was just an excuse. When she was doing a scene with him, they were the only two people in the room, and nothing else mattered.

"Five minutes!" Mrs. Clearwater, the drama teacher and director, called, and her head snapped back up. Emmett and Alice had run to get seats that she had saved for them in the front of the auditorium, and now there wasn't any more time to think about what could have been, what might have been.

What most certainly wasn't, at least not anymore.

"You were amazing!" Alice called, running to hug her tightly – as soon as she reached her, her arms were wrapped around her in a tight embrace and Alice rocked her back and forth, giggling all the while.

"Bravo! Encore!" Emmett boomed, his laughter exuberant as he playfully clapped his hands. "Seriously, I thought you'd at least blush and stutter a little. It was a little disappointing," he grinned, shrugging his large shoulders, while Alice slapped him again. She laughed at the exchange, taking the small bouquet of flowers Alice handed her once she was released with a bright smile.

"Newton was worst than I thought he was going," Alice mumbled, rolling her eyes, and she had to nod at that, agreeing.

"Dude, who doesn't know at least a couple lines from Romeo and Juliet? Even I know the balcony scene…well, parts of it."

"He ruined the whole play!"

"He definitely wasn't good enough to be in with our Bells," Emmett chuckled, and playfully elbowed her, but he wasn't paying attention to them anymore, at least not fully. "When you go Broadway we knew you first. You better invite us to all the celebrity parties!"

"I doubt Broadway stars have celebrity parties, Emmett, at least not the ones you want to get invited to."

She didn't really hear as Alice wondered what she was looking at because she was already stepping forward to the beautiful bouquet of flowers that were laying on the small chair in her 'dressing room', which was really a tiny closet that had been converted backstage. She picked it up gently, a wide smile spreading across her lips as she slowly brought it to her nose to smell.

Lilac?

No.

_Freesia._ That was it.

Alice was beside her then, one delicate black eyebrow arched in question. "Wow, who bought that?"

"It's big," Emmett chipped in, earning another eye roll from Alice.

She wasn't listening, though, because her shaking fingers had already found the card and were already reading the familiar handwriting.

_You were truly amazing, my darling Juliet._

_I was going to give these to you in person, but I had something of my own to deal with._

_Either way, you stole the stage. _

_I know I haven't been treating you right lately, but I had a lot to think about, a lot of things of my own to sort out, and it's all done. I think we both have a lot to deal with, but I don't want there to be any dirty laundry. Let's start over._

_I haven't ever said this, and don't expect to get it a lot, but …_

_You're the brightest star, Isabella, and if the Italian teacher didn't see that so many years ago then she must truly be blind – I've been feeding off of your light for years. I suppose I'd be the moon, then. _

_I'm sorry if I made you feel like you weren't bright enough, but you truly are. _

_If it means more, you're the only star I see anymore, the only star I've ever seen – the others seem to fail in comparison._

_Romeo_

_P.S. The flowers are freesia. I figured they'd suit you._

_L'amo, Juliet._

_It's never too late to say I love you, trust me, I know. _

* * *

It had seemed almost surreal. Was the beautiful arrangement of flowers really from the same boy who had been ignoring her for two weeks straight? Had she truly read it right, had she interpreted it the right way? For all she knew, it could be a letter from Mike Newton, though she knew it made even less sense when she thought about it that way.

She didn't remember the car ride home, or even the small party they had once they got to her house. Charlie was still strict about his rules now that he felt he had to keep a better eye on her, but for the most part the grounding had been lifted, at least to an extent. Either way, the four of them had pizza together at her old kitchen table, and when Charlie went off to watch the game Emmett and Alice had begun putting on their own performance of Romeo and Juliet, which was amusing to watch – it would have been, anyway, if she had been paying any sort of attention.

Her mind was still on the note she had shoved into the pocket of the jeans she had changed into.

And when she sat on her bed later when everything was said and done, her eyes fastened on the flowers on her desk and she knew she wouldn't be getting much sleep.

It didn't matter, because she didn't have much time to try. Nearly the moment after the thought had come to mind there was a tapping noise, a banging and a scrape, and she rose to her feet. Her eyebrows rose as the noise came again, and she followed the sound to the window, pushing away the curtains in confusion.

"But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief."

She'd know that voice anywhere – it was deep and velvet, the voice of an archangel. It only took her a second to spot him in the darkness, his ivory skin seeming to glow in the pale light of the moon.

And when he caught her gaze, even in the darkness she could see how his lips pulled back into the crooked smirk she hadn't even know she had been waiting to see for two whole weeks.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, I kinda love this chapter.

Maybe not the writing (pleasepleasepleasedon'thitme! Someone mentioned the next time I insult myself they'll taser me...c'mon, that was kind of a compliment to myself...) but the actual chapter. :) I thought it was adorable, but I won't say it's my favorite because I think I've said that about three chapters already.

Mmkay, so, I guess this could be considered a cliffie if you think about it. :P Oohh, what's gonna happen now he's shown up at her window? By the way, that's a real Romeo and Juliet line - not the entire line, but part of it, so yeah. I figured I should mention that. xD

Uhmm...and, basically, that's it.

Review! Review!

Review! Review!

Review, Review, Review!

Revieewww!

Now, even though it's one word, it's still a song.

I think that deserves a review.

Plus, if you really heard me singing that, you'd probably review just to shut me up. ;)

Love ya,

Nicky :)


	16. Help, I'm Falling! No, Wait, False Alarm

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

A/N: I'm on limited time here, so this author's note is going to be short and sweet. :P

Haha, as if that's possible with me.

One, thank you, thank you, thank you times a million for the wonderful comments, all the things you do...I have people sending me songs that fit this story (by the way, I friggin' LOVE THAT, and I might even make a playlist if I get enough), I have people telling me I'm all these amazing things, I have people encouraging me to stop bringing myself down...

It's crazy, guys, and I never expected any of it. Just wanted you to know how much I appreciate it. Even the little reviews that say things like "Good job! Please update soon!" make me smile. :) Seriously. I'm not feeding you this crap, I'm trying to be sentimental.

Okay, moment over.

Read. :P I'm so pleasant, aren't I?

..."EPOV", by the way. ;)

* * *

He wished that he knew what he was doing, but quite simply, he didn't.

He felt like he was never in one place anymore, like he was always spiraling and falling and trying to get back onto two feet. The odd falling sensation, though he was sure it should be, was never entirely uncomfortable, however, but simply because it seemed natural for them. They had always been teetering and falling and flailing, always been insulting and frowning but secretly complimenting and smiling. They had their own relationship, and it wasn't like a normal teenage romance, it wasn't like it was supposed to be.

They weren't as simple as that, and as much as he sometimes wished they were, he knew he didn't truly want that. Their relationship wasn't about looks or money or friends, it wasn't superficial and it certainly wasn't fake. They weren't attracted to each because their friends pushed them to be, but at the same time, they used each other constantly, but for each other's gain, as well.

They pushed and pushed and prodded the other forward, and he realized how co-dependant they truly had become, at least in his case.

He didn't just love Isabella Swan, it just wasn't that simple, and sometimes he wished that it was – sometimes, anyway. Other times, he couldn't be happier with what he had, what he had been giving her.

He _needed_ her. He needed her like he needed air, and if there was one thing he learned over the duration of two weeks, it was certainly that.

It was a relationship that worked both ways, and although the hatred had always coated it keeping it from ever being healthy, it didn't matter then, and it didn't matter now. They had always been there for each other even though it was hidden by other feelings, other intentions. They had always been the ones to pick each other up and force them forward when they were at a stand still, as much as they didn't want to admit it at the time, even if they didn't realize it.

In third grade when she failed her spelling test, he had smirked and shown her his grade.

The next spelling test, she got a perfect score, and even if he didn't express it then, at least not verbally, he was proud of her.

It was in fifth grade when he was just beginning to play piano that he realized she also expressed an interest in it, and in some ways, she was even a bit better than he was at the time. It all seemed natural to her, her fingers gliding across the keys like magic, and he became frustrated…

He practiced every night after lessons so he could beat her.

Now he was writing his own songs and playing them on his own.

It was all a system, a symbiotic relationship of sorts, and he had just begun to figure it out.

He wasn't sure if he could breathe without Isabella Swan.

But what was he doing here at her window? Why had he begged and bribed Emmett to drive him here and drop him off outside of her house? He knew why he sent the note, but he figured she might not want to hear from him. He had completely ignored her – at least in terms of their relationship, that would be considered ignoring – for two weeks. At first, he had been angry with her, furious.

When he listened to that message, it didn't change much. At first, he was shocked, and once the initial shock wore away, the aggravation settled in, aggravation that he did not understand at the time. Where did it come from? Wasn't that what he had wanted to hear, after all, that she loved him? Did it matter that it took her a bit of time, which was only natural, since it had taken him almost as long?

He listened to it everyday before bed, almost obsessively. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for, he wasn't sure what he wanted to figure out, he wasn't sure if he'd ever make sense of any of it.

Could they even _be _in a relationship? Could they break away from their co-dependant, odd one and easily transition into another one?

On the Monday of the second week he found the reason for his aggravation.

He wanted to hear her say it, in person, face to face.

"Edward," her voice rang from the window, light, but most definitely confused. He grinned in response as he waited for her to continue, and she was very obviously flustered, the light of the room illuminating her pink cheeks. She was biting on her lip, and a few moments later she spoke again. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to you," he answered smoothly, because that was the only thing he could think of. He didn't really know what he was doing here, either, or what he honestly expected.

Part of him wanted her to tell him to leave.

He had been trying to ignore it for two weeks, but she had expressed it perfectly.

He was scared. _Terrified._ Unsure, confused, out of his mind, insane, losing control…

Totally and completely, irrevocably and irrationally, unconditionally and undeniably in love.

Was there any other way to describe the feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever someone so much as she mentioned her name? Was there another word for how only she could make him smile like she did, that only she could make him laugh so much, only she could push him further, only she could get him to go so completely insane? Only she could throw him so completely off balance.

If he said he didn't like it he was almost certain that he'd be telling a lie.

"Oh." Her quiet voice called from the window, snapping him back to reality, and his eyes zeroed in on her features, her heart-shaped face that was contorted in emotions he couldn't see from her, her voice so quiet he had to strain to hear it from where he was on the ground. "Do you want me to come down there?" she questioned, seeming unsure of herself.

_No, stay right there. Stay right where you are. I don't know what I'm doing. Tell me to leave, right now, Swan. You know you want to. Remember that time you hit me with your History textbook and I almost –_

"That would be nice," he responded simply, a grin on his lips, one that was forced and placed there only for her benefit.

She disappeared from the window, and he realized it was truly now or never, that he had to gather his thoughts and calm himself down, because he knew that this was the time when he needed to say everything he wanted to, before he ran out of time. He always running in place, always falling, flailing, and down right out of place when it came down to her, and he didn';t know if he'd ever be able to stand still.

She appeared not too long after that, her long brunette hair up in a messy bun, flyaway dark hairs falling into her unusually deep chocolate eyes, something he always loved. He loved that she was natural, that her beauty wasn't hindered by chunks of makeup and she didn't rely on designer clothes to make her figure for her, she just was. She was beautiful. _Bella._

"What did you need to talk to me about?" she wondered quietly, biting on her cheek as she walked across the line. He noted for a moment she was barefoot, that she looked nervous, too, as if she was afraid of what he'd say. In all honesty, he was afraid, too, and he waited until she had crossed closer to him and was standing in front of him before he spoke.

"I needed to talk to you about everything, and about us," he shrugged simply, giving her a small smile. "As if that wasn't already obvious, Isabella." _Can you tell I'm nervous too? _

He had always been good at hiding his true thoughts and feelings, but this time it just felt like it was written all over his face somehow.

She nodded, obviously waiting for him to continue, and he took a breath, trying to sort out his own thoughts in his head before he spoke them aloud to her. He needed to make sense.

"I'm sorry about waiting so long for this, I knew I shouldn't have, but I was just thinking, and there was a lot to think about." She needed fervently, obviously agreeing wholeheartedly with this. "First of all there was that message, and I know I should have called back or at least left another one, and I'm sorry I didn't." She shrugged as if it didn't matter, but he could see on her face that it did, the way her eyes didn't catch his.

He knew her almost better than she knew herself.

"I just want you to know that we probably did this all wrong. We've been going in all different directions, getting all mixed up. It shouldn't have been like this. We should have…well, it's going to have to be slow, Isabella. I don't know if I can do fast this time around."

It was hard being so painfully obvious with her when he knew that he had always hidden everything.

In some ways, they knew everything about each other, how the other reacted, how they thought, their smiles, their laughs, their lies –

But in other ways, they knew absolutely nothing at all, and that was a point that seemed most important to him now.

"I agree," she breathed, though she still looked nervous, as if she was waiting for a big point, but he didn't really have one, at least not one that was ready and at hand. He didn't know what he wanted to say anymore, how to keep his feet planted firmly on the ground when all he wanted to do was turn and run. He had always been running from uncomfortable conversations like this, he had waited so long, and what did he truly want anymore?

"I don't know what you want me to say," she added when she realized he wasn't about to add anything anytime soon, sighing as she shook her head. "You waited two whole weeks to tell me this. Where do we even stand anymore?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly, frustrated that he didn't. "I wish I could tell you, Swan, but there's no way to explain it. I think this is what they call an _impasse_, ma cherie." He tried to use humor, but he wasn't sure if it worked, because all he got out of her was a frustrated sigh and an eye roll.

"Did you mean everything you said in that note?" she asked, her voice meek and quiet, as if she expected him to deny it.

"Every word."

He might as well be blunt. Every single word in that note he had written was a hundred percent true.

He wished it could be half as easy to say now that he was facing her, though, because he knew exactly what he wanted to ay to her, and exactly why he wouldn't.

"Well, I meant every word on my message, too." She shrugged her shoulders, trying to feign indifference, but he saw right through her, and it brought a crooked grin to his lips.

"I think we should start over, then."

"Start over?" she asked, her voice genuinely confused, and he had to laugh at the expression on her face, the adorable way her nose scrunched when she was curious –

"Like real couples do, I suppose, in the stereotypical sense. On a real first date, minus the falling asleep and getting each other grounded, of course."

He didn't know how a second first date could be any better than the first, because if he was being completely honest with himself, that was one of the best nights of his life.

"_Now?" _she mumbled incredulously, her gaze moving to the house behind her.

She had a point, considering it was truly around midnight now, but did it matter much? It wasn't a school night, and he had told Emmett not to wait up –

"Yes, now."

"What do we do?"

"We sit and talk."

* * *

Sitting in the grass in complete darkness was surely not what stereotypical first dates were like, at least not like the ones everyone watched on the popular television shows, but it fit them almost perfectly. He wasn't sure what he had been thinking when he insisted they do this, but somehow, the odd questions they were throwing back and forth at each other made it seem like nothing had changed at all, while at the same time, everything was shifting and falling into a different place.

It was like a competition again, but not fueled by the desire to win but simply to know about each other.

He was pleasantly surprised he knew most of what he told her already – her favorite color depended on the day, her music taste was similar to his own, she hated sports (he had figured that out from experience)…

He hadn't know why she moved to Forks, though, and that was why he was currently leaning towards her, watching the look in her eyes as she explained how she ended up in the small, sleepy little town.

"My mother remarried," she explained quietly, and he took sympathy in the far-off look in her eyes, trying to keep his own head in the present. "His name is Phil, and he's a nice enough guy, I guess, but he's too young…" Her face scrunched in distaste, and she shrugged. "Anyway, he makes her feel even younger, and my mom…she likes to think she's still twenty." She laughed quietly, and he didn't know whether to be amused or awed by the sound of her voice.

It wasn't like she was talking about her mother, but like the roles were switched, like _she_ was the mother.

She went on. "It was pretty obvious I was holding her back, and so I sent myself here a couple years ago, and I've been here ever since." Her expression turned curious, and he knew it was coming. "What about you? How did you end up with the Cullens?"

He sighed. "I've been a foster program since I was five, Bella. The day I moved into your neighborhood was the day that I moved in with my first adoptive parents. My mother had just died." That was a bit more blunt than he had intended, but nevertheless, it was the truth.

There probably wasn't a subtle way to say that, at least not one he could think of.

He watched the shock fade into her features, trying to hold back the repressed pain that began to hit him in waves. Did he need to be any more specific? Did he need to describe it for her? He held it back, trying to keep back the thoughts of that defenseless little boy with the reddish brown hair, crying himself to sleep, wondering what was wrong with him.

He remembered how that little boy had looked so hard for something to hold onto to keep the pain away and the ghost of good dreams replaced with terrifying that haunted him at night, and how he had found it.

Isabella Maria Swan.

"H-how did she die?" Bella asked quietly, biting on her bottom lip, and quickly shaking her head. "I mean, if you don't…"

"I don't," he interjected, trying to keep his voice steady as he went on. "She died of cancer."

"What about your father?" she fired off the question fast and then seemed to realize she had let it slip, an apologetic look In his eyes.

"He died before I was born. My mother never told me how, and I guess I'll never know."

"There was no one to take you in? No aunts or grandparents, or anyone?" she asked incredulously, her eyes wide with curiosity and a deep sympathy, something he reveled in.

"No one wanted me."

And they sat in silence.

"I guess we know more about each other now," she murmured after a few minutes if continued silence, comfortable silence though. He thought it would be worse when he told her, and truthfully, he had considered never telling her, but now he knew, he wasn't sure how he felt. Relieved, because he didn't have to worry about it now?

Or was something else completely? Was he happy that she knew? He didn't quite understand the sensation running through him, almost shocking him as they sat together in the grass and she spoke again, the realization hitting him in waves.

He hadn't ever told anyone.

He had hadn't _trusted_ anyone to know.

He hadn't ever wanted someone to know him like he wanted her to.

He wanted her to know him, all of him, everything. He wanted her to know him like she knew herself, he wanted everything to come easy to her. He wanted her to know him better than everyone, his past, his present, and his dreams of the futures. He wanted to know everything about her, too, every significant detail from the clothes she liked to wear to the food she liked to her favorite genre of music.

Was that what it felt like to be in love?

He wouldn't know, really.

He had nothing to compare it to.

"Yeah," he agreed quietly, his voice a bit detatched, his mind elsewhere.

"So, what's the conclusion? Did we do the normal couple thing right?" she joked halfheartedly, her grin a bit nervous as she looked over at him, waiting for a reaction. Her face fell when he shook his head, but he chuckled at her expression, shrugging his shoulders and quickly explaining.

"Since when have we ever been normal, Swan? Stay with me here. This was just a formality."

She grinned then, too, probably realizing that he was right.

"I didn't get to ask one question, though," he added, a bright smile on his lips as he did.

"What's that?" she asked, her voice curious, and a bit confused.

"How do you feel about me? Really feel about me, all of that hate crap aside? C'mon, Swan, I'd like the nitty gritty here." His voice were teasing but his eyes completely contradicted his tone, deep and intense as they focused solely on her.

It was then that she did something he would have never have expected.

Her lips crushed upon him in an instant, and he wondered how she had managed to wiggle herself so close to him without him noticing. Just like always he was taken aback by the beautiful way her lips moved against his, the way they fit together, almost like they were a puzzle that was not complete without the other. It was like a drug, kissing her, getting to entwine his fingers in her soft brown hair, getting to see the way her eyelids slid closed and her full lips moved in rhythm with his, a perfect, in tune rhythm of their own.

He loved seeing her eyes close like that, watching as her cheeks turn that gorgeous bright pink color, and how her hands entangled in his hair and how he knew it was all because of him.

He was the one doing that.

More important, _he_ was the one she wanted.

Not Mike Newton or Tyler Crowley or Eric Yorkie or any of the other boys who were lining up, just waiting to ask her to be with him.

Him. Just him.

_His_ Isabella, his beautiful, brown-eyed Juliet.

Her lips parted as she pulled away, a bright, almost sly smile forming on her lips. "Does that answer your question?"

"I think I get it now, yes."

And he realized what the sensation in the pit of his stomach was in a burst of intuition, suddenly. It all became clear.

He wasn't falling.

He was _floating_, flying, soaring...

"Well, I love you, Edward Masen." Her voice was quiet, subdued, her gaze on her lap and not on him. "So there. That's how I feel about it, the nitty-gritty."

And he didn't _ever_ plan on coming back down.

* * *

A/N: This chapter had me smiling like an idiot when I finished it, because I just felt like it was...I don't know. :P I just liked it, a lot, and things are probably going to progress now (I wouldn't tell you if it was, would I? Nope.) I mean, this is the kind of thing Edward needed, to know how she feels, and to try and figure out what he feels, too.

And the whole talking in the grass scene just felt like it was so right for them, with the relationship they had, and how they quizzed each other back and forth...it just fits their relationship to me, since I'm the one that created it. xD

Overall, I love this chapter, and I'm NOT going to diss my writing today, nope. ;)

All I'm going to say is thank you so much for your continued support and your amazingness (I know, not a word), because it still awes me how wonderful you all are and the wonderful reviews you leave!

Please, keep them up! /greedy

See what you've done?!

You've spoiled me rotten. :)

With Love,

Nicky xo


	17. I'll Name the Stars, Just For You

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

A/N: It makes me so, so, so sad this chapter, and it's not even because the chapter is necessarily sad, it's because it's the last chapter in the story. And I tried so hard to drag this out a bit longer because even I didn't realize how attached I became to this story, but it was impossible. :P So, yes, this is really the last and final chapter of AYCDICDB and I am truly sad to see it go, though I knew this was the way that I wanted it to end.

I'm just so happy for all the reviews and the love this story has gotten, and thanks so much for all of it. You've all inspired me so much and there is not a single moment that i'm grateful for that, and I know I'm getting all sappy on you, so sorry for that. ;) Thing is, black and white, I love every one of you, and I'm glad that you put up with my bitching, and you know what, you've given me confidence.

So, here's the last chapter, and I hope it makes you as emotional as I am. /sniffsniff

And yeah, this is EPOV, because it just fit so perfectly.

* * *

A few weeks later and he was walking again without crutches or a limp, though one of his legs was a bit weaker than the other. He was working on that, though, and he loved how _Bella,_ his old rival Bella, was telling him to be careful so he didn't strain himself. The thing is, she might've said that anyway even if she did still hate him – or, according to her, was trying to hate him – she would have just hidden it behind an insult. It was just the way their relationship had worked, and he had honestly though that was the way they were supposed to be at the time, the way they naturally acted around each other.

Natural born rivals, destined for hate. Still, they had worked together, pushing one another and learning, learning how they thought, how the other person clicked. He knew everything about her before he had told her, just because he had been around her more than anyone else. He had to smile thinking about that, thinking about how she had always acted like she hated him she had always stuck around. She'd ask him to stop, but she never truly meant it.

A couple weeks later from that faithful day in the grass and it seemed like absolutely nothing had changed, and at the same time, everything had. They weren't really sure where to go a few days after, when the morning came and they saw each other at school. She had driven him home that night and they had exchanged an awkward peck on the lips before she had driven off in her old, beat up red Chevy, leaving him speechless and, if he was honest, clueless. Where could this possibly be leading them? Could they honestly start a normal relationship now after all they had been through together?

The answer was an obvious no, of course.

Isabella Swan and Edward Masen had never been able to pass as normal, and their relationship had never been close to the norm for rivals, definitely not for friends, and so why should it change now? Was there any reason for them to be just like everyone else?

He had been so nervous, but he should have known it would be easy.

It was one, two, three, and A, B, C, do, re, mi, it was like riding a bike and tying his shoelaces.

Once you learn you just never forget, once it comes easy it's always that simple. If she had been someone he had just met it might have been awkward, but he knew this girl since Kindergarten, and now he knew everything about her. The fact of the matter was they were still the same exact people, just Edward and Bella, and nothing had changed at all. It should have been awkward, but besides her crimson cheeks when he flirted with her – and he _loved_ that blush, it made his heart pound in his chest so fast he swore it was escaping – it was just the same.

The next Monday when they saw each other in the hallway, they didn't declare their love again, they didn't run into each other's arms like normal couples might, and she had actually glared at him and declared him an asshole for not calling her. He had retorted he hadn't known her number, she had come back with a comment that she could have asked Alice –

Which he could have, but he was scared, and that was besides the point.

It was verbal sparring. It was Edward Masen and Isabella Swan, and it was _perfect._

Then they had kissed, and it wasn't sweet and tender, it was a challenge and a competition, one that he won, though she had gotten the best of her after Biology, and he couldn't say that he regretted that. Maybe he'd just have to let her win a bit more often, because the look of satisfaction on her face, the way her brown eyes were filled with it and her cheeks were slightly flushed made him happy, something he would never be able to explain to someone else.

He should have known all along. There was nothing to be afraid of because change was inevitable, but some things never change.

Some things are never supposed to.

He had been wrong.

The stars shifted and shimmered and moved, but they were always still there every single night, just the same as the night before, just in a slightly different place. He should have guessed it would have been like this all along. Isabella Swan had always been the brightest star in the galaxy, and now she had just shifted a bit.

Edward Masen and Isabella Swan made a beautiful constellation together, and he should have known that they would, but perhaps he had always known, somewhere, somehow.

After he realized that everything just seemed to fall into place, and everything seemed that much easier.

* * *

Alice threw her head back and laughed at some joke Emmett had just cracked, but he wasn't paying much attention to them, if he was being brutally honest. His eyes were focused solely on the brunette girl across the room, who was smiling back at him. Emmett seemed to catch his gaze, rolling his eyes in a teasing way, and shaking his head. He broke my gaze with Bella from across the room, ignoring Emmett's snicker and Alice's giggle once she realized the situation. Hanging out with his adoptive siblings – who had always been Bella's best friends – probably should have been awkward as well, but somehow, it wasn't.

"So, what are you two up to tonight?" Alice asked curiously as she leaned back on the couch, a bright smile on her lips. She had been the most enthusiastic about the relationship, something he certainly hadn't expected. She even set up a few of their dates, something he didn't ask for but was given anyway. If she could have thrown them a party she probably would, and he didn't doubt she would have if Bella hadn't insisted she didn't.

In such a short time he had fallen in love with the pixie-like girl, he had accepted her like a sister, something he had never done. Emmett, too, was like an older brother to him, and he had never felt that way about someone like that, he had never truly felt accepted in any one of his foster families, like he belonged, but he did. He belonged here with Carlisle and Esme, who treated him like their own son, like he was worth something, like they loved him, and that was certainly enough for him. They were the parents he never honestly had, but had always wished for.

He wondered if he was getting spoiled, or if Bella's genie act had backfired and he had gotten more than three wishes. He doubted it, however, because he wasn't sure he would have asked for all of this, and that was the truth.

"Well, I planned something special," he admitted quietly, gazing over at Bella, who was giving him that disapproving glare she knew so well. It was funny how spending more time with her had only made him learn more and make his feelings for her grow and develop into something a bit more. For instance, she ahted gifts, but it didn't do much good protesting, because he was stubborn and persistent, and he knew that she knew that.

He knew that she loved that, too.

He also had learned that she hated surprises and she hated when he went out of his way to do something special for her, like a romantic evening or a surprise, but the thing was, he felt he didn't do it often enough. Their relationship still seemed like survival of the fittest, and it always felt like they were competing, but still, somehow, very much in love. They weren't rivals with benefits anymore, not truly, but there was no label name for them. He supposed they were dating, but it was more than that.

Dating was such a normal term, and Isabella Swan and Edward Masen had never even come close to normal.

"Ooh, a surprise," Emmett chortled, his voice taunting, but Edward knew better. He was grinning wide, a grin that threatened to split his face in two, and he knew that he was happy for him, for them, but he wouldn't say it. He smiled in return, shrugging his shoulders.

And then there was a shrill ringing sound and Alice was stifling a giggle as Emmett groaned at the Caller ID, though he and everyone in the room knew he had been waiting hours for the caller on the other line, and no one could ignore the huge smile that spread across Emmett's face as he flipped the phone open and bought it to his ear. "Hey, Rosalie. We still up for our date tonight, or what?"

"No, Rosie, it's not like that, and you know it, baby." A pause and a sigh. "Look, it's not like…" Another pause, another sigh, this was routine it seemed, and everyone but Emmett was smiling knowingly. "Rosalie, I told you I'd be there by nine –" Pause. Sigh. Repeat. "Okay, okay, seven, but that's my final offer." Pause. Emmett seemed to visibly stiffen. "Six?" A roll of the eyes. "Fine, six, Rosalie. Damn it, I'll be there five thirty, whatever you want, just expect me on your porch with my jeep and some flowers." One more, lingering pause, another roll of the eyes, and a drawn out sigh. "Right, right. I know you think roses are tacky and corny because of your name, Rosalie. I'll bring some daffodils or some shit like that."

He went on to continue talking, Alice making whip-like sounds in the background and Emmett glaring and trying to get her to stop, and it was routine, it was how it worked, and it was right. Somehow we had all fit together, just like some odd puzzle with a picture no one had been able to figure out. It turned out Emmett and Rosalie, the blonde bombshell of the senior class were soul mates, as far as he was concerned. She was exactly the person Emmett needed, just like he needed Bella.

He caught her gaze from across the room and had to smile because somehow, just somehow, he knew it was true.

* * *

"This is nice," her voice was quiet, and he had a feeling that she was on the verge of tears, though he didn't know why. Everything looked different in the moonlight, and her face seemed to glimmer, making her look even more beautiful than before. Her brunette hair was pulled back into a bun, with a single strand falling into her face, and he smiled as he reached to pull it back.

They sat there together in the place where it had really all started, the place he always felt right sharing with her. Even after Alice and Emmett had become, basically, his brother and sister and best friend, he still hadn't shown them this place, and it wasn't because he didn't trust them, it was because it honestly didn't seem right. The beautiful wild flowers and the bubbling little stream and the grass that seemed so much greener seemed to belong to them. It had always been his meadow, the one place he could sit and think for hours, but it wasn't his anymore, it was theirs. The stars seemed brighter here, the moon that much more luminous, and he smiled at the smile on her lips now as she seemed to notice it, too, her eyes cast towards the sky.

"Yes," he agreed simply, letting his hand lace with hers, this time without so much as a moment's hesitation. There was silence in the meadow, everything was just calm, peaceful, and if he was being honest, it was perfect. The first time he took her here it had been like this, and they both seemed to realize what this place did for them, the emotions it brought to the surface, though they were always there.

Usually, the silence didn't last too long, and tonight she just happened to be the one to break it.

"The stars are pretty tonight, aren't they?" she murmured idly, her eyes gaze up towards the sky again, and his moved there too, almost automatically. The stars were very visible tonight, something that was very rare in the small, rainy little town of Forks, Washington. The moon could be seen, too, bright and shimmering, but he had to smirk as he turned to her, the same smirk he had always given her from the very beginning.

_Her_ crooked smirk, she had once called it, and he had loved the way it had slipped off her lips, the way it sounded.

He gently took her chin, bringing her gaze back to him and lacing both their hands together again, reveling in the warmth she gave him as he pressed his lips to her jaw, his lips still pulled up into a smug little smirk, one that he couldn't hold back. "Very beautiful," he agreed, and he almost lost his resolve and laughed at the wary look in her eyes. She knew him much too well, better than he knew himself at times, and he wouldn't have it any other way. "But not as beautiful as you, _ma cherie._"

She laughed at that, throwing her head back and pulling away from his lips, though he knew that was exactly the reaction he had been searching for. She looked so gorgeous when she laughed, and she held a kind of innocence and natural beauty that was impossible to mimic, something genuine that had entranced him from the very beginning. She was real, she was raw, and she was his Isabella.

He wouldn't have it any other way, either.

"You're a sap, Masen, you know that, right?" she giggled, shaking her head.

He shrugged in response, mostly because she could usually tell when he was lying – she had gotten so much better at that, and he wondered if she should happy about that or not – and he couldn't truly deny that. He blamed it all on her, though. "And you're in love with me, Swan. What does that make you, pray tell?"

"Hopelessly in love with a sap, unfortunately," she laughed, shrugging her shoulders, and he had to chuckle at her, because she was absolutely ridiculous, and he knew that he loved her for it. He leaned in so he could kiss her, and she leaned forward as if to meet his lips, but he smirked and trailed his lips down to her jaw and then to her neck, placing feathery kisses up and down, trailing back up until he finally reached her lips.

When their lips touched, even weeks after they had become a couple of sorts, it still seemed to shock him. His heart pounded in his chest like it was attempting to escape, and his eyes closed on instinct, as much as he fought to keep them open, just so he could see her. Her lips moved with his perfectly, like they were meant just for his lips, and he liked to think of it that way. They fit together, and the feel of her soft full lips against his never ceased to amaze, astonish, and please him, because he knew he could have them whenever he wanted now.

She was _his _Isabella and _his _Juliet, and even if they didn't last she'd always have that part of his heart, the part he had already given away to her. It was in her hands now, and he had changed all because of her, he had let her in and he wasn't disappointed.

He had given her his heart, his entire soul, his future, and essentially, his being as a whole, and what she chose to do with it now was ultimately her decision.

"Damn it, how do you manage to do that?" she mumbled as they broke away, and he had to smirk again at the flushed heat that had risen on her cheeks, the glazed over look in her eyes and the desire that was apparent there, and he listened carefully to her labored breathing.

"Anything you can do, I can do better, dear, it's as simple as that, always has been," he murmured back lazily, his lips following his circuit from her neck to her ear, still smirking against her skin. He could feel her intake of breath and it made him laugh breathily, but if he was being honest, he had been panting too just moments before. She drove him crazy, but he would never let her know that, he would never let her win.

"You're an asshole," she accused quietly, though her voice was broken and her arms had wrapped around him tightly, and he had a feeling that she was not about to let go anytime soon.

He chuckled quietly - almost afraid of breaking the peacefulness of the meadow by being even just a little too loud - and bringing her onto his lap. He let her settle her head on his shoulder blade and waited until she was settled and comfortable there, his lips moving from her skin so he could gaze at the night sky again, where her gaze had fallen as well. "And yet you still love me," he pointed out, his voice really nothing but a whisper.

"Hopelessly, of course," she replied matter-of-factly, and her tone made him smile, because it was just so Isabella Swan, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"L'amo, Isabella," he whispered into the night, his voice lowering to the point where she wouldn't have heard it unless he wasn't whispering it into her ear.

"Love you too, Edward."

He held her there, a smile on his lips as they fell back into comfortable silence, and he listened to her quiet breathing, pressing his lips against the top of her head affectionately. It was quiet and peaceful until he broke the silence again, prodding her gently so she lifted her head and gave him a questionable glance. He grinned, pointing to the sky, and waited until her gaze was there, too, knowing she was waiting for him to explain.

"You see those two stars right there?" he asked, pointing still. She squinted a bit before nodding her head.

"Don't they seem brighter than the other ones?" he asked, the grin still spreading, and he was sure that if it was possible it would have split his face in two. He felt like a child, but he couldn't quiet contain himself when he was around her.

"No, not really," she mumbled, almost embarrassed, as if she had missed something. Her forehead creased in adorable frustration, and he laughed and lowered his arm, setting it around her waist and pulling her more securely to him.

"They should. Their names are Edward and Bella," he told her, a bright smile on his lips, reveling in the feel of her small body against him, right were it belonged.

"They are not, you idiot," he couldn't see, but he somehow knew that she had rolled her eyes. It was instinct by now, like they were one person instead of two.

"They are now."

"You can't just name stars, they probably already have names."

He rolled his eyes, sighing in defeat, and kissing the top of her head. "Well, to me, they're always going to be the Edward and Bella stars. I think they're beautiful." He nodded against her head, playing with a brown strand before settling back into a comfortable position. His arms wrapped around the front of her body and he leaned back a bit, supporting both of their weights, a goofy little smile still firmly on his lips now, one that probably wouldn't fade.

"I think they're beautiful, too."

He smiled against her, turning her head so he could kiss her again, because those were the words he had been waiting to hear.

And the stars shifted one last time, but somehow, he wondered if they had always been in the same place, and he had just been a bit too blind to see. The fog must have clouded it from his vision, must have made what was right in front of him all along a bit too difficult to see, a bit too difficult for both of them to see.

Though, as he watched those two stars glimmer and glow in the night sky, he wondered how he could have been so blind, and how he could have missed the obvious so easily.

They made the most beautiful constellation, and all the other stars must be insanely jealous. Even if they were exactly the same as any other star, to him, they would always be brighter, those two little stars that stood out for him against the rest.

Edward Masen and Isabella Swan. Rivals, friends, enemies, lovers, it didn't matter, because they were them, and they were perfect, and he wouldn't change a thing, not even if he had a hundred more wishes.

In the end, they could fight and spar and argue and compete all they wanted, but in the end, it would all come down to the same thing, and in the end, they both won.

They made wonderful rivals, but an even better team, one that could never really lose even if they lost.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

The stars above them shifted and burned out and died and moved and changed, but their stars stayed in exactly the same place, the place he realized they belonged. He hugged his arms around her just a little tighter until she looked up again, and he gave her a smile, and she returned it, and their lips met again, and everything started all over again, and suddenly he was flying again, though he wondered if he had ever come down, really.

And when they pulled back and he saw that look in her eyes and that blush on her cheeks and he just couldn't help but think _I win, Isabella. _

_I always do._

So the cycle repeated and the stars shifted and the seconds kept ticking and the earth kept spinning, but somehow he was finally in the place he was supposed to be, and she right there with him.

* * *

A/N: It's almost depressing how sad I am to see this story go, and when I wrote the last sentence, I jost broke and almost cried, and I know how sad that sounds, but you know how when you're a writer you're building, building, building towards something and then you finally get there and... I don't know, it's kinda an unexplainable feeling, but if you're an author, I hope you know what I'm talking about. :P Or maybe I'm the only one that gets so attached to her characters.

I think it's been a long ride, and I think that this was where it needed to end, though I've got these ideas rolling around my mind for a sequel, and I'm not sure if I want to go along with it. /shrug I really do think that Edward and Bella have preogressed and grown a lot in this story, though, and I hope you'll give me your final feedback and all of that.

God, I hate saying goodbye. :( I really, honestly do.

Again, thank you all so much for the support, love, and of course, feedback you guys have given me, and I couldn't ask for anything more, sorry for being a total sap. xD

/sigh I happen to love this ending/chapter, and I'd love to know what you think.

Love you all,

Nicky xo


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